Not Quite Paradise
by George Weasley's Girlfriend
Summary: Prequel to AngieJ's “Trouble in Paradise.” In early 2004, Voldemort has been defeated and the wizard world is peaceful… or so it seems. Secrets and dark pasts hold the key to trust between friends. Will friendships crumble under the weight? Weas
1. The Tie That Binds

Opening – flashback to Chasers sneaking into dormitory – Angelina, Katie and Alicia giggling about going into the boys' dormit

**Author: **George Weasley's Girlfriend

** **

**Title:** Not Quite Paradise

** **

**Rating: **PG-13

** **

**Disclaimers: **Anything created by Ms. J. K. Rowling belongs to her; everything else, to me.****

** **

**Summary:** In early 2004, Voldemort has been defeated and the wizarding world is carrying on peacefully… or so it seems.Secrets, lies and dark pasts hold the key to the friendships built on years of trust.Will the friendships crumble under the pressure or carry the weight?

**A/N:** This is a prequel to AngieJ/Ebony's "Trouble in Paradise."It's strongly suggested that you read as much of that as you can before reading this story.Done?Good.This fic takes place in early 2004.Most of it will center on the Weasley twins and the Gryffindor Chasers, but it's not as though the Terrific Trio will be absent.I'd also like to take this space to give a huge thanks to my betas: Ebony, John (aka Crazy Ivan), Lady Christina, Virgo and Pippin.An extra super special thanks to Ebony, who's letting me write this.Remember to check out the [HP_Paradise][1] list if you want to discuss or read the incoming chapters before they're posted to ff.net.Thanks everyone!

** **

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Not Quite Paradise

** **

"_Although I would like the world to change, it helps me to appreciate those nights and those dreams.But my friend, I'd sacrifice all those nights just to make the earth and my dreams the same." _– _Higher_ by Creed

Chapter One

The Tie That Binds

10 October 1995 

I laid quietly in my bed, listening for them to come back.I had heard them leave over an hour ago, giggling madly about something they were going to do.It was Alicia Spinnet's idea.Katie Bell quickly agreed, as usual, and Angelina Johnson was always looking for an adventure.I had been left behind, of course.It didn't hurt me anymore; I was far too used to their treatment to care.

_ _

_I'm not saying that I wouldn't have loved to go with them.A chance to charm extra freckles on the Weasley twins while they slept?It would have been the practical joke of a lifetime!Fred and George would even have to admit to its brilliance.But I was left alone in the chilly dormitory._

_ _

_I heard the door creak open quietly.Hushed voices.Suppressed giggles.Pattering of slippered feet.The door closed again with a high-pitched squeak and all was silent – for a moment.An eruption of giggles broke out on the other side of my drawn curtains on my four-poster bed.The high-pitched laugh definitely belonged to Angelina Johnson.The one that sounded muffled as though the girl had put a hand over her mouth was certainly Alicia Spinnet's.That merely left the half-gasping, half-snorting noise to Katie Bell._

_ _

_"I can't believe it!" Katie squealed."I thought they were going to wake up for sure."_

_ _

_"I almost had a heart attack when George scratched his nose," Alicia whispered._

_ _

_"Oh, and how about when you yelped after Angelina stepped on your foot?" Katie said, her voice low."I'm surprised the whole dormitory didn't wake up."_

_ _

_"I can't wait to see them at breakfast tomorrow," Angelina said through giggles."Fred'll be positively furious that we got back at him."I heard the brief, excited clapping of hands together._

_ _

_"And you think he's _cute_ when he's angry, don't you?"_

_ _

_"Katie Bell, you get that thought out of your head this instant!" Angelina squeaked in what she probably hoped was an indignant tone.I knew better.She most certainly fancied the older (albeit by seven and a half minutes) twin.I almost laughed, but I was able to turn it into a cough at the last moment.The voices outside ceased immediately and I froze._

_ _

_"Oh, it would figure _she_ would be listening," I could hear Alicia say spitefully.She raised her voice deliberately so I could hear her clearly."Why don't you come out here so that you can hear us better, then?"I didn't move.Maybe they'd leave me alone, maybe they would just go away…_

_ _

_"Really, like we don't know you're awake," Katie cut in.Maybe if I just lay really still…No, they would just open the curtain.Trembling, I sat up and swung my legs over the side.Pulling my nightgown tightly around me, I slipped between the curtains and stepped onto the cold floor, my toes involuntarily curling up against the frozen stone._

_ _

_I circled around the side of my bed and saw the three of them standing together, faces flushed darkly and looking as though they'd had the time of their lives.I dropped my chin self-consciously and let my long brown hair shield my face from their view._

_ _

_"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Angelina asked quietly._

_ _

_I was rather surprised at her speaking to me.Usually she remained quiet while the others teased me or occasionally would stop them by making an excuse for them to leave.She helped me with Transfiguration homework once in fourth year and smiled at me in the hallway.It wasn't much, but it was more than nothing, which was exactly what I got from Alicia and Katie._

_ _

_I suppose I suspected that George told her to be nice to me; he kept an eye on me sometimes.He was the only person I could talk to in the whole House.Sure, I had Shelly Walters (Hufflepuff) and J'Belle Jubilee (Ravenclaw) to talk to during class but when Death Eaters killed my mum in my sixth year, it was George who sat with me in the common room all night and held onto me as I cried.He didn't make the empty promises that the teachers and acquaintances did that if I needed anything then "just ask."I knew it was true with him.He wasn't like Madam Pomfrey who wanted me to "express my feelings" and "let it all out" or I'd make myself sick and woe be the person to give _that_ woman extra work in the infirmary.If I wanted to talk, he would listen.If I wanted to just sit with him or cry, he would understand that, too._

_ _

_Angelina and I were never that close.She did say she was sorry about what happened to my mum when she found out.Katie and Alicia didn't tease me for a while after that.I was given a wide berth, which I was grateful for.Thank Merlin for small favors._

_ _

_"No, let her listen all she wants," Alicia said, a smile beginning on her face."It's not like she's ever done anything against school rules.Ooh, sneaking out at night.How terrible of us, Katie!" I still didn't dare look up at them.They might see the tear streaks on my face.I couldn't show them that._

_ _

_"You're not going to tell on us, right, Anya?" Angelina asked.I shook my head quickly, my eyes still studying the ground._

_ _

_"I won't tell anyone.Honest," I answered right away._

_ _

_"You had better not," Katie warned."George wouldn't speak to you again; we would make sure of that.You know he only does it because he feels bad for you."Blood pounded in my ears and I told myself not to listen to her.She was just trying to upset me."_She's trying to get your goat, baby_," my dad would have said."_Now don't you let her_."_

_ _

_As I saw it, there were two options.I could stand up for myself and do the right thing by telling Professor McGonagall in the morning or I could swear I wouldn't say a word and crawl back into my bed, pretending it never happened._

_ _

_"I promise I won't tell.Really," I said.My older brother always said I should have been in Hufflepuff.I heard one of them draw in a breath to say something, but Angelina cut her off._

_ _

_"All right, we all need some sleep.There's a game tomorrow, remember?"Her voice had the commanding tone no less than the one McGonagall could hold.Obediently, I quickly scrambled back into my bed and curled up beneath the covers.I heard two sets of footsteps scramble to opposite ends of the room quickly.The third pair walked a more determined path and I held my breath as my curtain was pulled aside._

_ _

_"Anya?" Angelina whispered softly."Anya, if you're still awake, I'm sorry for the way they acted.Katie's parents are very uptight about her behavior.If she even gets one owl saying she misbehaved, she'll get into loads of trouble.Alicia… well, she hates it when her parents are disappointed.Just don't tell, okay?"_

_ _

_"I won't," I murmured, my voice muffled in my pillow._

_ _

_"Thank you."I heard a soft swish as my curtain fell back and listened to her tiptoe back to her bed (I may have needed a charm to help my vision, but my ears were in perfect working order.) and crawl beneath her own covers.I waited five solid minutes before I let the tears fall._

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Years later… 

"Anya?Anya, wake up.Come on, this isn't _funny_.Open your eyes," a voice said as I drifted out of my dream.The voice was very familiar and it sounded a little frightened.My eyes fluttered slowly open and I looked into blue eyes that I instantly recognized.

"George, go away.I'm sleeping," I muttered, squirming uncomfortably in the chair.George drew back and stood above me, arms crossed.It was creepy when he did that, because he looked like he was upset with me.I saw a smile twitch on his lips and relaxed.

"Sleeping on the job?I could bring you in front of the Department of Magical Employment for that, you know," he teased.I let out a breath of relief, knowing his words held no conviction, as I was only working at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes as a record-keeper temporarily while I was between jobs.

"The store closed an hour ago," I yawned in reply.I stretched my arms out an unimpressive distance and looked up at him sleepily.His dark red hair fell over his pale blue eyes and he brushed it away, irritated.

"You need a haircut," I told him as I stretched out my legs and used the arms of the chair to push myself to my feet.I felt dizzy from standing too quickly and fell over again.Luckily, I landed right into a pile of Plush Parrot Pillows.They squawked in protest and I stuck my tongue out at them.Perhaps I'd picked up just a bit too much of the twin's disposition.

George looked down at me with one raised red eyebrow, and an amused smile touching the corners of his lips.He shook his head as he picked up his eagle feather quill and dipped it in the green inkwell.

"Remind me to add 'coordination' onto the list of things we need to order," he said, marking something on a piece of parchment.He signed the bottom and set his quill down so he could roll it up.

"You're really cute," I said sarcastically, picking myself up and brushing bright red and yellow feathers off my robes."Do you want me to close up tonight?"

"No but thanks, Anya.I'll do it."I had noticed he was acting odd recently, even for George.He absently put his quill behind his ear and opened a parchment envelope that had been resting on the counter. 

"Oh, that came this morning, but you and Fred were in your laboratory buggering about or experimenting – I don't know which – and I completely forgot about it until now."He gave a half nod and skimmed the first few lines of the parchment.His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What is it?" I asked, sidling up to him.He didn't answer, so I bent slightly in front of him to read the letter he was holding.

To: MESSRS. F. & G. Weasley

From: Parker Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises

Re: Copyright Ownership

Date: 8 January 2004

To Whom It May Concern:

It has come to the attention of **Parker Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises** that **Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes** manufactures a full line of Canary Creams, the first edition coming out in the June of 1997.We, at **Parker Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises**, are sending you this notice to inform you that our successful Tweety Truffles have been on the wizarding market since early 1982.To avoid legal matters, we recommend that you remove the Canary Creams from your merchandise list.Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,

Parker Jackalope

President of Parker Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises

I paused a few moments before I dared to look up at George.Canary Creams were what started Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and they had been a classic (and quick-selling) item ever since.

"This is Fred's doing; I know it," I said, hoping the lie might comfort him."He probably though it'd be so bloody hilarious for you to panic over it and think it was real.Oh, honestly, the two of you will never grow up, will you?"I took the letter from him and crumpled it up in a little ball.I took out my wand to incinerate it, but George snatched it out of my hand before I could.

I watched silently as he placed the parchment on the counter and smoothed it out slowly.I could tell he was searching the notice for any sign of forgery.Finally, he drew in a deep breath and folded it in half.

"Time for you to go home," he said softly, tucking the parchment into his pocket.He finally looked up at me."It's late."

"George—" I began in protest.

"I want you to open tomorrow; I've got some appointments in the morning.Seven o'clock, all right?" he said as though I hadn't even spoken.It drove me insane when he did that.

"Yes, sir," I replied.I knew calling him "sir" or addressing him formally in any manner really got his goat, but I really didn't care much at that point.

"Please don't do this," he said, closing his eyes and sitting heavily in the chair in which I had been sleeping."I don't need this extra stress," he said, his voice muffled by his hands.He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed; even his freckles looked drained.

George had taken care of me when I was younger.I like to think I became a stronger person because of him.I didn't need him the same way I did when I had my rough patch at Hogwarts.But _he_ needed _me_ now.I knelt at his side and he opened his eyes, looking at me.His face was weary and he looked a lot older than his twenty-five years.

"Anya, this is just too much," he said, in a strained voice."I can't talk to my sister-in-law without her referring to my brother as 'oh, _him_,' in the same tone a Death Eater might say 'Muggle-born.'_Dervish and Banges_ and_ Third Time's A Charm_ are beginning to monopolize the practical joke industry and I'm about this close to getting sued."He held his thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart to better illustrate.He ran a hand through his fiery hair and let it fall limply on the arm of the chair, which grunted its indignation.His head fell back against the top of the chair with a dull thud and he closed his eyes.I chewed my lower lip for a moment, trying to think of something horribly profound to cheer him up, but my mind was a complete blank.The only thing I could think of doing was setting my hand on top of his, which I did.

"3W has had hard times before and we've always pulled through.And Fred and Angelina will settle their differences… as bull-headed as they can both be, they love each other deep down and will find a way to fix things.Come on, you know I'm not good with all this philosophy rubbish.It'll work.Life's not perfect… nothing is always paradise."

He cracked open an eye and turned his head towards me.

"You really believe that, don't you?" he asked, completely and utterly serious with me.I nodded."So things will work out, then?"I nodded again and he pulled his hand out from under mine.He used his fingertips to brush my light brown hair out of my face and tuck it gently behind my ear."If you say so."He sighed heavily and offered me a half smile.His eyes were still troubled and I knew I hadn't really helped him at all; I could easily tell he was humoring me.I really didn't appreciate when he did that, but starting a row with him over his insincerity wouldn't solve anything."Go on home and get some sleep.I'll see you in the morning."He stood up from the chair and reached out a hand to help me stand.

"Good night, George," I said, just before Apparating home.

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I awoke the next morning with a sharp pain in the side of my head.I groaned and turned over.To my surprise the pain disappeared for a moment.I felt a light tapping across my head, then the sharp, pulsing pain again.I forced my eyes open and swatted out at the air.I gasped sharply when I hit something feathery.

Yawning, I sat up and rubbed my eyes with my fists.I looked down into my lap to see a little brown owl hopping excitedly across my lap.It cocked its head to one side and stuck its talon out proudly.

"Mmm, why's the mail coming this early?" I muttered to no one in particular, as I took off the piece of parchment tied to the tiny bird's leg.Once I'd relieved the owl of its burden, it hopped excitedly across my bedspread, looking to get into trouble.

"Don't you touch anything," I warned it as I swung my legs over the side of the bed.It hooted at me, irritated, and then became mesmerized with the flying Quidditch players on my covers.I unrolled the small piece of parchment and read quickly.I identified the handwriting as George's scrawl:

Anya-

Get the envelope off the counter at the shop and meet me at Paracelsus Hospital.Please hurry.

-George

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I rushed through the front entryway of Paracelsus Hospital, hopping on one foot and trying to tie my shoe.I had stopped at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes to pick up the envelope with a piece of folded parchment in it.It was the one from Jackalope Parker Practical Joke Enterprises; I considered jotting down the return address and sending back a Howler, but decided against it at the last moment.

_The hell with my shoe_, I decided, as I dashed up to the reception desk.

A plump, red-haired witch sat behind the desk, scrawling a note on a scrap of parchment.Her dark blue-framed glasses bobbed up and down on her nose as she wrote.

"Weasley?" I asked hopefully, my words coming out rushed together.I paused to breathe as she answered.

"Room 317 on the seventh floor," she said pleasantly.It must have driven her almost insane to be so calm and collected when panicking relatives and friends rushed to find out how their ailing loved ones were doing."Would you like a Mouse?"

I nodded quickly and a tiny girl appeared in front of me.To those who didn't know what a Mouse was, it would be absurd to think a child of eight or nine could possibly guide visitors through a large facility such as Paracelsus.The Mouse, however, was no child. Rumors had flown through the wizarding world from the possibility of them being the late Albus Dumbledore's perpetually youthful granddaughters' to their ages being in the thousands.I suppose no one would ever know.

In any case, she raced ahead of me through zigzagging hallways and up trick staircases and even through what appeared to be solid walls of stone.Finally, we entered a long hallway lined with doorways and nervous witches and wizards sitting in chairs.She pointed one pale hand down the hallway and jabbed a finger sharply to the right.I squinted down the corridor, hoping to see something obvious – like a gigantic sign with "317" on it – but I had no such luck.I turned to ask the Mouse where to go, but she was gone.My heart nearly pounded out of my chest as my mind flew a hundred kilometers a minute.Was George sick?No, that couldn't be it.He wouldn't have sent me for something at 3W if he was ill.But why did he need me to meet him at the hospital?I got a sick feeling in my stomach; something had to be wrong.

I began to run again and was only able to get halfway down the hallway when an all-too-familiar sharp pain tore through my chest.Crying out, I fell to my knees.Within ten seconds, I was surrounded by mediwizards.One pushed to the front and asked, panicked, "Again?"I was only able to nod; the pain was much too great.I felt a wand touch my shoulder and the same voice say, "_Antiasthmatico_."The pain faded gradually and was replaced with a dull ache.I felt strong arms heave me to my feet and I saw that it was indeed George who had spoken to me.

"Thank you," I breathed gratefully, collapsing forward into his arms.I leaned against him heavily as I slowly caught my breath and fought of the last shards of pain out my chest.He guided me carefully to a chair, sat me down and knelt in front of me.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly.I nodded and handed him the envelope.He took it from me and glanced at it briefly before putting it in his pocket.

"Why did you need to meet me here?"

"Angelina's sick," he said softly.My heart jumped into my throat and the sick feeling was back in my stomach.

"What happened?" I asked numbly, my hand placed over my heart.George stood stiffly and then seated himself beside me in a chair.

"Fred says that one moment she was folding laundry and the next, she was leaning against the wall, crying with her arms wrapped around her abdomen.She's… she's not good," he replied, his voice trembling.

"The baby!" I gasped.

"Dr. Branford says the baby's still alive… but its – we just found out 'it' is a 'she' – heartbeat is weak.Angelina's got a high fever and she's hardly coherent.The mediwizards still don't know if whatever's she's got is Muggle or magical or… something else."He fell silent and I saw the small muscles in his jaw moving furiously as he stared at a spot across the hallway.I heard footsteps at the far end of the hallway and looked up in time to see Ron Weasley and his wife, Hermione Granger-Weasley rushing towards us. I stood quickly and hugged them both, filling them in on as much as I got from George.

"Maybe I should go in and take a look…" Hermione began, already taking a step towards the door.Ron caught her shoulder and shook his head.

"Conflict of personal interest.Let them do their jobs, 'Mione," he said gently.She turned and looked up at him, looking as though she was about to protest.She snapped her mouth closed and leaned slightly against his chest.

"I'm going to find a mediwizard somewhere and find out what's going on," Hermione declared.

"I'll catch up with you in a minute," Ron said.For a moment, they paused, and then exchanged a quick kiss before Hermione started down the hall.Ron nodded politely at me and then stepped in front of his brother's chair.George looked up and stood.The brother's embraced slowly.When they pulled apart, they each seemed to read each other's minds.

"How's he doing?" Ron asked.George shook his head.

"He's falling apart…You know Fred, though.He's trying not to show it, but he's hurting.Bad," George answered.He briefly rubbed his face with his hands, as though trying to stay awake."He knows he was being a lousy git with the way he was treating Angelina – she wasn't being much better – but I can't believe this is what it took for them to be in a room together for more than ten minutes without shouting."

"Who did this?" Ron asked, with a clenched jaw.I tried to shrink in my seat.I knew that Ron's Weasley temper was second only to Fred's, something I dared not witness a second time.

"They don't even know what caused it."George glanced past Ron and down the hallway."Looks like Hermione found someone with answers."I turned and saw Hermione speaking with a mediwitch.I winced when I recognized the defensive-Hermione stance; hands planted on hips, weight on left foot, head tilted slightly to one side.

"I'd better go save the poor bloke," Ron said with a wince."Let me know if there's a change."The brothers embraced again and Ron headed down the hallway towards his wife.George settled heavily beside me again.He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, making me wonder what was in his head.I looked down and slowly slid my hand beneath his.He startled a little, but then wrapped his fingers around mine.

"I don't know what I'd do if I was in his shoes," he murmured, his fingers holding mine tightly."I don't know how I could live with myself."He fell silent again and I leaned my head softly against his shoulder, my eyes closing.If I kept them open any longer, I might've started crying.I don't break an eight-year streak without crying if I can prevent it.From where I sat, I could just barely make out Fred's voice through the door:

"Angel, you must pull through this. You've _got _to pull through, love...I can't live without you."

I didn't expect anything to follow, but I heard Angelina's very weak rasp, "You have George…You'll do just fine."

"George is my twin, my flesh and blood. True enough. But you're _in_ my blood, aren't you? Angel, I... I'm not like some blokes that can just say all sorts of flowery things off the top of their heads. Blowing a lot of hot air... that's not me and you know it. But you've got to know that you're my heart..." Here, he broke off and I suspected he was trying to compose himself."And a man can't live without his heart, now can he? So get well."The pain in his voice threatened to bring tears to my eyes.

"It could have been her in there," George murmured in a barely audible tone.I'm not even sure he realized that he'd spoken aloud.

"Who?" I asked him quietly.He jerked suddenly and I pulled away from him, looking shocked.He was staring back at me with large blue eyes.

"Nothing… It's no one.Don't worry about it."His voice was clipped and the message was clear: no further discussion on the issue.He pulled his hand away from mine and dropped it into his lap.I looked at him, surprised, but he was lost in his own world.

To be continued… 

   [1]: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HP_Paradise



	2. Keeping The Faith

**Author: **George Weasley's Girlfriend

** **

**Title:** Not Quite Paradise

** **

**Rating: **PG-13

** **

**Disclaimers: **Anything created by Ms. J. K. Rowling belongs to her; everything else, to me.****

** **

**Summary:** In early 2004, Voldemort has been defeated and the wizarding world is carrying on peacefully… or so it seems.Secrets, lies and dark pasts hold the key to the friendships built on years of trust.Will the friendships crumble under the pressure or carry the weight?

**A/N:** This is a prequel to AngieJ/Ebony's "Trouble in Paradise." It's strongly suggested that you read as much of that as you can before reading this story.Done?Good.This fic takes place in early 2004.Most of it will center on the Weasley twins and the Gryffindor Chasers, but it's not as though the Terrific Trio will be absent.I'd also like to take this space to give a huge thanks to my betas: Ebony, John (aka Crazy Ivan), Lady Christina, Virgo, JM Robin and Pippin.An extra super special thanks to Ebony, who's letting me write this.Remember to check out the [HP_Paradise][1] list if you want to discuss or read the incoming chapters before they're posted to ff.net.Thanks everyone! ****

** **

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**Not Quite Paradise**

_"Death is that state in which one exists only in the mind of others, which is why it is not an end. No goodbyes. Just good memories."_ --Unknown

# Chapter Two

# Keeping the Faith

In most families, when a single member falls ill, the rest of the unit makes occasional visits and ask what they can do to help.Not the Weasleys.I knew that for a fact. When I Apparated into the Burrow after my visit to the hospital, it was overflowing with Weasleys of all shapes and sizes.

I had no sooner popped in front of the door than seven-year-old Mary Weasley came running at me.With a squealed "Annieeeeeeeeeeeeee!" (Poor child could never get my name right.) she launched herself into my arms.I staggered back a few paces but, thankfully, not down the stairs.Penelope, her mother, came out the door a few moments later and took her daughter back from me.

"Oh, I'm so sorry about that," Penelope said, her voice apologetic."Mary's just been a little excited about everything that's going on."She turned her attention on her daughter."Why don't you go see what Daddy's doing?"Mary squirmed in her mother's arms until she was put down, then scrambled to her feet and raced back into the house.Penelope straightened and brushed her scarlet robes off with her delicate hands.

"How's she doing?" she asked brightly, her large blue eyes shining innocently at me.Her golden curls framed her face delicately and I felt as though I was looking at a child.Don't get me wrong; I love Penelope dearly, like she was my own sister, but her naiveté astounded me sometimes.At the same time, she was a lot like Percy: ambitious and determined.On the other hand, I think she had some sort of denial complex in place that wouldn't let her accept bad news.

"Er… maybe we ought to go inside and I can tell everyone together."She nodded in agreement and we went inside the house.Inside, Molly and Arthur sat across from their son, Charlie.Lizeth, Charlie's wife, was walking slowly back and forth across the room and holding their three-year-old daughter Elizabeth.The young child was sleeping with her thumb in her mouth and her head on her mother's shoulder.

Lizeth noticed my presence first and smiled at me.She used her free elbow to nudge Charlie and he stood politely upon noticing me.Molly, of course, pushed back out of her chair and rushed up to me quickly, asking me how Angelina was doing and what happened and oh, was her little boy okay?If the situation had not been what it was and Molly had referred to her twenty-five year old son as a "little boy," Fred would never hear the end of it from me.

I relayed the latest information: Angelina was becoming more and more coherent, but her fever had spiked again.The baby's heartbeat had strengthened somewhat, which the mediwizards said was a good sign.Fred had fallen asleep in her room and when I had followed behind George to enter, he was slouched down in his seat with his hand in Angelina's.She was half-awake and lying on her side, watching him sleep with a tired smile on her face.

"Maybe you _were_ right about things getting better," George had whispered to me, not wanting to wake up his brother.

"Yes, I do tend to make correct statements on occasion," I said, patting his arm."I'll open the shop.It's not too late – customers might still come."

"Forget it," George had said with a firm hake of his head."Go to the Burrow and tell my mum the latest.I'm sure she's already argued with the receptionist and tried to get the entire family in.Please, Anya?"

I had wanted to go home; I really did.I'd go open the shop and take care of it if I could.Anything was better than seeing Molly Weasley in a state of distress.I had witnessed her just after the Third Task in my sixth year's Triwizard Tournament.When Harry had reappeared, unconscious at the edge of the hedge maze, Molly had been nearly hysterical.It took Bill Weasley, Professor Vector _and_ Professor Sinistra to keep her from rushing to Harry's side.A Weasley in distress is one with which you do not want to mess.But with George giving me the lost puppy look, how could I say no?I agreed and started down the hallway (Security wards were cast in the hallways and rooms, so I had to wait until I got outside to pop over to the Burrow.).

As I turned to go down a staircase, I nearly ran into a stricken-looking black woman who was nervously wringing her hands.

"Sorry," I said and was already a few more steps down when I realized who it was.I paused a turned around to see the woman"Mrs. Johnson?" I questioned, returning to the top of the stairs.The woman spun quickly.

"Do you know where my daughter is?" she asked quickly.Her face was streaked with tears and her large brown eyes were filled with even more."Where's my daughter?Is she all right?What happened?"

"She's at the end of the hallway… 317.She's awake, but I'm not sure…" The panicked look on the woman's face had made me stop mid-sentence."End of the hallway.Right side."She had nodded quickly and began hurrying down the hallway.

I told Molly all of this, save my encounter with Mrs. Johnson.I most certainly did not need to have her nervous about Angelina _and_ her mother.

"Oh, my goodness, the poor girl!" Molly said dramatically, one hand over her heart.Before she could go on, an owl swooped in the window and landed on Arthur's shoulder.She cast half a glance over her shoulder, but turned back to me when Arthur pulled the parchment off the bird's foot.She continued to bombard me with questions, which I answered as best as I could.Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Arthur skim it quickly and wait patiently for his wife to finish speaking.

"Molly, dear," Arthur said quietly, stopping his wife's mission to see how much she could say before completely passing out from lack of breathing.

"What is it?" Molly asked, turning her eyes upon her husband with mild annoyance.

"It's the note you sent to Harry… the owl came back with it."His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as his middle son, Percy, entered the room with his wife.Apparently, their five children were off amusing themselves in some other room of the Burrow.From the giggling and bangs, I could gather they were upstairs and with several other cousins.

"That's odd," Molly mused, looking, if possible, even more worried than she had seconds earlier."Where could he be?"

"Who, Mum?" Percy asked, eager to jump in the conversation.

"Harry," Lizeth answered, passing her sleeping daughter off to Charlie.He smiled slightly as Elizabeth laid her head on his shoulder, yawning.

"Mum owled him about two hours ago with the news about Angelina and the owl just got back without giving the note to Harry," Charlie picked up, keeping his voice quiet so that he wouldn't wake his daughter.

"I thought Harry said he had some business to take care of at Hogwarts this week," Penelope put in.Her husband shook his head.

"He was there on Monday and he told me he finished everything before he left," Percy said.

I had an inkling of an idea where he was.I couldn't be positive, but if the owl hadn't found him in his usual places, I was rather confident I knew of his whereabouts.

"I could go look for him, Molly," I offered."I think I might know where he is.Owls aren't allowed there."Her eyes held confusion, but she seemed too distressed to inquire.

"Well, if you see him, you tell him to come here, all right?Poor boy is always off on his own…" I smiled politely and nodded.

"I'll see if I can get some more information from the hospital, too."Molly's eyes filled with grateful tears. The woman didn't seem too easily pleased most of the time, but this seemed to satisfy her.After receiving a sleepy wave from an awakened Elizabeth, I Apparated away.

* * *

I entered the small graveyard quietly, mindful to respect the silence.It wasn't a spectacularly lavish place by any definition but it was quiet and peaceful.Less than a thousand were laid to rest there, wizards and Muggles alike.

I made my way down the dirt path, hands tucked into the pockets of my robes.My eyes slid over the various tombstones that I had always been impressed with.They ranged from large monuments of angels that seemed to stretch to the sky to tiny bricks imbedded in the soft earth, surrounded by carefully tended grass.

At the far west side of the graveyard lay a pair of gravestones separated from the main group.A man sat between them, his head leaning back against the fence with his eyes shut tightly.A man with messy black hair and round glasses.

I stayed a modest five meters away, behind a tree, not wanting to intrude on Harry's privacy.As though he noticed my presence, he sat forward and opened his eyes.For a moment, it seemed as though he didn't know where he was or why he was there.After removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes a few times, he seemed to become oriented again.Using the fence to support himself, he stood and finally spotted me.

I felt self-conscious as he walked over to me.I had just been spying on the Boy Who Lived!Actually, he was now the Man Who Lived Quietly And Ran A Charity.I always thought he would go into some sort of spy espionage or high profile job, but I suppose he shocked everyone when he disappeared for three years and then resurfaced at Fred and Angelina's wedding to start the Black and Potter Foundation with his godfather.

"Hello, Anya," he said quietly.I turned red under his gaze and looked down at my feet."Don't be ashamed.I had the feeling someone was watching me anyway."

"It wasn't intentional," I said sheepishly, meeting his bright green eyes."I… erm… sometimes when I'm here, I see you sitting by those graves.Are those your parents?"He nodded, glancing back at the tombstones.He looked a little sheepish himself and I smiled in a way I hoped was reassuring."I come talk to my parents sometimes, too."

He got an odd look on his face at these words.I (along with every other educated witch or wizard in the world) knew he'd never met his parents; at least, he didn't have any memories of them.He'd had so much weight to shoulder for so long on his own… without anyone to help him carry the load.Sirius was there for him, I'm sure, but I knew from personal experience that nothing could replace a parent's guiding.

"Could I meet your parents?" he asked abruptly."You know… could you tell me about them?"I'd never seen Harry ever look quite like he did then.It was a yearning… but with an intense, disguised sadness."I—I like to hear about parents."

"Sure," I said slowly.I led him quietly through a row of graves and showed him one large gravestone bearing the names of both of my parents:

## In Loving Memory

## Benjamin and Amelia Parker

"As loving as they were together in life, they remain so in death."

There were no dates of any kind.My mum had died before my dad, but I couldn't bear the two of them being apart after death, so when my father died, I had a new gravestone made and made it large enough so it stretched the width of both of their graves.

"Here they are.My mum's friend Genevieve used to joke that the two of them were always so close to each other that they were attached at the hip."I paused to chuckle."I… um… I guess I didn't want them to be apart after they died."I looked up at him and was surprised to see that there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Tell me about them?" he asked.I nodded and began.

"Well, my mum was a witch; she went to Hogwarts – with your parents, maybe.My dad was a Muggle, but he knew about the wizarding world.He worked with Cornelius Fudge and Arthur Weasley to help with wizard-Muggle relations.Fudge had my mum work with my dad and… well… it was quite funny really, as they would hardly get any work done because they were always goofing off.A couple of nutters, those two were.Now that I think of it, they remind me a lot of Fred and Angelina."I paused for a moment, reflecting."My mother's family was very strict about marriages; if it had been up to my grandmother, my mum would have settled down and married a wealthy wizard handpicked by my grandmother before the age of twenty-five!So they eloped.I think it's rather romantic."I looked at Harry, who nodded in response.I was pleased that see he was actually listening and seemingly enjoying the story.

"Go on," he urged, crouching low to study the writing on the grave markers.I smiled and knelt next to him, brushing the dirt off my father's name.

"When I was little, I would make Mum tell me all about Hogwarts and magic.She even told me about you.Well, what happened at any rate.She softened it for me, though.Mums are like that, I guess."I shrugged and saw that he was looking down at the tombstone fondly.There was something behind his green eyes that I couldn't quite identify as he looked at the inscription beneath my parents' names.

"How about your dad?What was it like having a Muggle for a father?"

"It was… erm… entertaining, to say the least," I started, laughing a little."Mum would send something flying across the kitchen and into the sink or cupboard and it would drive Dad positively bonkers.Then he would tickle her until she apologized."I tilted my head softly to the side, remembering the sound of their laughter."Sometimes I wonder if they'd be proud of me for being okay on my own," I said out loud, unintentionally.In afterthought, I looked over at Harry, half-hoping he had heard.

"I'm sure they would be.Remember in seventh year when Fang got into the school?You're the only one who was brave enough to go near him!" Harry said with a smile.

"Fang wasn't dangerous!He was positively adorable," I replied with the utmost sincerity."Really, you would think he was capable of _hurting_ someone the way the rest of the students were going on about it."I shook my head.I had always excelled in Care of Magical Creatures and had a special affinity for them ever since.

"If you hadn't shown me this gravestone, I might have gone on thinking Hagrid was your father."He paused a moment, thinking."Nah, you're too short."He dodged a sloppily aimed swat and gazed back towards his parents' final resting places.I swallowed hard and saw his eyes had misted over.When he saw me looking at him, he blinked quickly and I couldn't even be positive if he had had tears in his eyes to begin with.I gave myself an internal forehead smack and asked myself what I thought I was playing at, telling an orphan about how great my parents had been.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, feeling positively horrid.The man had never met his parents and all I could talk about was my dad ticking my mum.

"No, it's quite all right," he said, standing up and brushing the off his robes.He reached a hand down to help me up and I took it gratefully, standing in front of a nearby tree.Once I was back on my feet, he continued, "I like to hear stories.When I was with the Dursleys, I would make them up myself.Very few didn't consist of their untimely deaths."He winked and I flushed red at such a personal experience being revealed to me.Before I could match a cherry, Harry went on, "Did you come here just to spy on me or to visit your parents, too?"

I gasped and a hand flew up to my mouth.I had forgotten to tell him!

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry.I was sent here to tell you to go to the Burrow.Angelina fell ill and the whole family is gathering there."I chewed on my lower lip and beat myself up inside._What a stupid thing to do, Parker_! I shouted inwardly.

Harry got a panicked look on his face for a moment, but it was immediately replaced with a mask of indifference.I suppose he needed to do that a lot, covering up his emotions like that.As an outcast, I had become quite the observer and could spot a lie or a faked emotion from a mile away.

I watched with a wince as his Disapparated with a tiny pop.He hadn't even said goodbye.Oh, yeah.He was pissed.I let my head fall back against a tree with a growl at myselfHow could I have been so forgetful… so stupid? I left to find someone without telling anyone where I was going, ended up spying on the person and then wasted twenty minutes of his time before passing on the message.

Furious with myself, I knew there was still one stop for me to make before going home.I pushed away from the tree and started back down to the path.The birds had stopped singing and my upset mind decided that it was to punish my stupidity.

A breeze flitted through the graveyard, stirring the leaves around my feet.I shivered involuntarily and pulled my hands into my sleeves, wishing I had brought my cloak along.I stumbled clumsily over a rock but was able to right myself before sprawling onto the gravel._Nice job, Grace_, my mind taunted.

"Shut up," I said aloud.A young man near a tombstone looked up and gave me an irritated glare.I smiled apologetically and shuffled on, a sudden great interest in my feet.

Finally, I arrived at my destination, a large stone memorial.There was a heading on the top and, though I had read it loads of times, I reread it anyway:
    
    Voldemort War II
    
    Prisoners Of War – Missing In Action

we hold onto the strand of hope that you will return to us safely.

I swallowed hard and let my eyes roam down the lists of names.Mark Abbott… Franklin Bartlett… Gerald Hart… Carter Luther… Steven Marcus… Tucker Oxines…

I reached out my trembling hand and ran my fingertips gently over the next name.The rough engraving scratched the tips of my fingers, but I didn't pull them away.

"I miss you," I whispered very softly to the name.I leaned my forehead against the cold memorial and closed my eyes to force the stinging away from the back of my eyelids."I'm doing okay, but it's hard.Why did you have to go?"

***

Two days later, I arrived at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes at roughly six in the morning.Let it be known that I am _not_ a morning person.There was an owl waiting for me when I arrived home the previous evening, asking me to open the store the next day and that he would try to get in by noon.George, of course, sent it.I recognized his hippogriff scrawl.

Fred and George have always been there for each other.Not in a mushy, talk-to-me-if-things-aren't-perfect type of way because that's just not the twins' style.It's more of comfort in knowing that if the dragonshit actually hit the proverbial fan, then the other would be by his side.

Therefore, it came as absolutely no surprise that George was going to keep his brother's business worries far away and try to do everything himself: take care of the shop, carry messages between the Burrow and the hospital and look into Parker Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises and see what he could do about the copyright matter.I didn't turn him down for opening the shop at such a God-awful hour because he had so much to look over that a whiny, pesky record-keeper who was going to complain about waking up early would not do him a world of good.

So there I was, leaning sleepily against the counter at WWW in Hogsmeade.Unfortunately, it was a Hogsmeade weekend for the Hogwarts students and I had a gigantic crowd of young witches and wizards pushing and shoving, giggling and shouting and generally running amok in the store.

A blonde haired boy bought a red Squirting Flower and I watched with mild amusement through the front window as he presented it to a brown-haired girl.To his surprise, and mine, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek just after he handed it to her.He turned crimson and looked away.She leaned forward to smell the flower when a stream of water shot out at her.

"RYAN!" she shrieked furiously, catching the attention of half of the store's customers.His eyes went wide and he ran.I sent a quick prayer for the boy, as she took off after him, livid.

Another swarm of students entered at this time, giggling about what had just taken place outside the window.One of them seemed just a tad too tall for her peers.I recognized her and waved.

"Shelly!" I shouted and waved her over.Shelly Walters, a tall, slim blonde witch who had been in Hufflepuff but in my year, waved back enthusiastically.Her large red lips curved into a wide grin and her blue eyes sparkled.A few of the elder customers gave appreciative glances her way and I saw it as no surprise.She was always the one to get the whistles at school from the boys and I was the one to get the mere title of as "the pretty girl's mousy little friend."Such is the life.

"Hey there, love!" she greeted brightly, stepping behind the counter without invitation.I was going to say something, but she wrapped me in a tight hug before I could get the words out."It's been _ages_ since I saw you last!" she said dramatically.Shelly had always been the one to play things up."We simply must get together more often."I laughed at how American her last comment sounded and asked how she'd been doing.

"Just famously," she said, clapping her ring-studded hands together.I did a quick visual check and made sure she hadn't gone off and gotten married without telling me; she could get spontaneous at times."And you?"I shrugged.

"My life's not nearly as exciting as yours," I said with a chuckle as I rang up a Flirting Flounder for a giggling teenager ("Real fish leer and bubble suggestive remarks to anyone who passes their tank!").

"You need to get married, girl," Shelly said, seating herself at a stool next to mine.I had a feeling that things would not be good if George came in to see one of my friends behind the counter, but couldn't bring myself to say anything at that moment."At least tell me you've got a date this weekend.It's a Saturday night."I shook my head."Things didn't work out with David then?"

"No, he decided we needed space."I rolled my eyes."That means he decided to hook up with Marcia Flint.And things didn't work with Simon, John or Parker DeMilo either."I heaved a sigh as her eyes got big.

"Going for quantity over quality, huh?" Shelly said, arching a heavily penciled eyebrow as she fiddled with a business card for 3W (It turned into a sponge when dipped into cold water and it turned into a washrag when dipped in warm water.My idea.).At my scowl, she relented a bit."Ah, well.Mrs. Parker Parker would sound a bit redundant, wouldn't it?" she said, tilting her head to one side.Her large blue eyes studied me, glinting just a bit too mischievously for me to be comfortable.

"What?" I asked slowly, half-fearing to know what was going on in her mind.I spotted a pair of boys roughhousing near a teetering bookcase of 365 Ways To Annoy Your Siblings calendars and shouted, "Hey, be careful!" in their direction.They scowled, looked at me like I was a horrid person for interrupting the destruction of the store and sent me glares before they stalked out.I looked back at Shelly who was positively beside herself with excitement.

"I've got a friend, Sean Ludlam, who's supposed to meet me for lunch next week.If you're involved with anyone…" She let the sentence hang, grinning from ear to ear with perfectly straight white teeth.

"No," I said flatly."Absolutely not.The last time you fixed me up with someone… well, you know what happened."The poor man (I think his name was Daniel) had a terrible memory and kept calling me "Gina" the entire evening.We had to cut the date short because his sister got into a broomstick accident and caused a sixteen-broom pile-up on the Aerial Broomstick Flyway Network.Everyone was okay, but I found that Daniel had a bit of a short fuse when he got angry with his sister.It was our first and last date.Suffice to say that I wasn't too interested in being set up on a blind date by Shelly again.

"No, really, he's a nice guy.He's got a part-time job somewhere… oh, I can't remember, but he's studying Quidditch under Viktor Krum.THE Viktor Krum!_Quidditch Today_ says that he's one of the most promising rookies out there.He's rather nice-looking, too."She made a clicking noise with her tongue and raised her eyebrows up and down in a suggestion fashion.

"Who don't you nab him yourself, then?" I asked, idly rearranging some merchandise on the shelf behind me as most of the students began to wander out.

"He's not my type," she sighed, leaning back against the counter."Besides, I showed him a picture of you.He likes you."She winked and I groaned.

"You did what?" I moaned, plopping hard onto a wooden stool, which muttered a curse in protest.She threw her head back and laughed loudly, unashamedly and then looked back to me.

"You're gullible, love.You really are.So you'll meet us at the Leaky Cauldron at noon next Friday, then?"I put on a pout.

"I don't know.Fred's wife got really sick the other day and George and I have a lot to do around here.Besides, I don't want to leave him alone with all this work.I don't even know if he'll give me time off."

"Why wouldn't he give you time off?" a new voice asked.I looked up sharply and saw George standing in the doorway, the day's owl post in one hand."Whoever he is, he must be a smarmy git to give such a great worker a hard time."He winked at me as he sidled behind the counter with a polite nod at a near-drooling Shelly, who was checking him out shamelessly.

"Shelly, this is George.George, Shelly."Shelly held her hand out and giggled as he shook it.

"Pleasure to meet you," she said in a sultry tone.He smiled courteously, looking a bit overwhelmed.I suppressed a giggle."So what do you say, Georgie?Will you let my friend here come to lunch with me and a dear friend of mine next Friday?"She batted her eyelashes slightly, not enough to look ridiculous, but enough to spark George's interest.

"And what do I get out of the deal?" he asked coyly, leaning on the counter.Ugh, it was like they were a couple of animals.I took the parchment envelopes out of George's hand and rifled through them.Nothing too exciting.I cleared my throat loudly and they stopped their flirting long enough to pay me attention.

"Are you going to need me next Friday then?" I asked George.He thought a moment and shook his head as he took the letters from my hands and began to go through them himself.His eye caught one and he opened it.

"Suppliers need inventory," he muttered vaguely.He looked up at me."You can have that afternoon off if you do inventory for me today."I shook my head instantly.
    
    "George, do you know how boring doing inventory is?"I made a whining noise and slumped back on my stool."Oh, fine." 

"Thanks," he said with a grin.I scowled and snatched the form out of his hand.Dragging my feet to the backroom, I could hear Shelly's tinkling laughter.Maybe a girlfriend was what George needed to take his mind off of 3W and his sister-in-law.As a matter of fact, I was warming up more and more to the idea of meeting the mysterious Sean Ludlam.

List in one hand, I stepped between the shelves and started my count.First on the list was Amazing Flying Squirrels.Don't ask.Thirteen still left in stock.They weren't a quick-selling item so we could wait until next month to order more.I made a small X on the bottom corner of the box with my quill and pulled my arm down, banging my elbow hard on the metal shelf.Three months earlier, I had done the same thing.Three months earlier, the action had had different consequences…

_"Can you not be so loud?" Fred spat irritably.I rubbed my elbow and looked back at the inventory sheet._

_ _

_"Sorry," I said quietly.I looked at the next item on the list."How many Flirting Flounders do we have left?"Fred shot me an impatient look and I tried not to get upset.I knew he and Angelina weren't on the best of terms, to put it mildly, and he was getting more and more easily annoyed as time went on._

_ _

_"Can't… reach… the…box…" Fred said, rising to his tiptoes.He strained his fingers, but they only brushed the bottom of the box.I pulled my wand out of my pocket and pointed it at the offending box._

_ _

_"_Wingardium Leviosa_," I said quietly, so I wouldn't get yelled at for being loud again.The box began to slide off the shelf and, unfortunately, Fred was doing it manually at the same time.Both of us, startled, stopped.I watched in horror as the box teetered dangerously on the edge of the shelf and fell.It seemed to fall in slow motion at first, but after it cleared the edge, it was as though time was sped up ridiculously fast as the water and fish went everywhere.Fred stood silently, red-faced with fury, water dripping down his nose. _

_ _

_"Are you STUPID or something?!" he shouted, coming towards me."Didn't you SEE that I was pulling that box DOWN?"I took a step back, terrified.His hands were clenched into fists at his side and he narrowed his eyes dangerously."What the hell is WRONG with you?How could you POSSIBLY be so DUMB?"_

_"FRED!"Fred spun quickly as George strode quickly into the room, looking caught between fury and horror."What the hell is wrong with you?"Fred looked from his twin to me, as though he had no idea where I came from._

_ _

_I nearly passed out in relief.The world around me tilted crazily as I stepped back against the wall for support.With a furious glare at Fred, George stepped up beside me.My mind was spinning, still terrified.Adrenaline pumped through my veins and my heart seemed to have no intention of slowing down.I felt hands touch my upper arms carefully._

_ _

_"No… no, Fred… I'm sorry… didn't mean it… please… please don't hurt me… so sorry," I slurred out.My body was still catching up with my mind.I tried feebly to get away, but the hands held me securely in place._
    
    _ _

_"Not Fred," I heard in the back of my mind."It's George… he's gone now… he won't hurt you."_

_ _

_"Oh, good," I whispered softly, falling forward against George.I was so drained from the rush of adrenaline, from my body responding to stressor with the fight-or-flight response.I trembled slightly as George's arms surrounded me._

_ _

_"He won't hurt you.I promise.I won't let anyone hurt you."_

_ _

**To be continued…**

_ _

A/N Part Two: Thanks to everyone who reviewed (well… all eight of you): Coriann (Ah, my faithful reader and fan artist), Angie (The writer of my 'canon'), *~*Ginny*~* (Yay – we've got a double fan!), Queen C (Here's part two for you!) Mrs Fred Weasley (my Good Twin), Elizaca (Curious about Anya's past, huh?Well, I hope you liked the latest insight!), Static (Sorry it wasn't soon, but it is here, isn't it?J ) and Juliette (I'm glad you're enjoying TBWL, but I'm afraid it's on hold for a while – mainly writer's block.). Thanks to Parker and John who reviewed over on the HP_Paradise list and Simon, who made a… well… odd comment.But I guess that's Simon for you.

   [1]: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HP_Paradise



	3. The Trouble With Men

**Author: **George Weasley's Girlfriend

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**Title:** Not Quite Paradise

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**Rating: **PG-13

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**Disclaimers: **Anything created by Ms. J. K. Rowling belongs to her; everything else, to me.****

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**Summary:** In early 2004, Voldemort has been defeated and the wizarding world is carrying on peacefully… or so it seems.Secrets, lies and dark pasts hold the key to the friendships built on years of trust.Will the friendships crumble under the pressure or carry the weight?

**A/N:** This is a prequel to AngieJ/Ebony's "Trouble in Paradise."It's strongly suggested that you read as much of that as you can before reading this story.Done?Good.This fic takes place in early 2004.Most of it will center on the Weasley twins and the Gryffindor Chasers, but it's not as though the Terrific Trio will be absent.I'd also like to take this space to give a huge thanks to my betas: Ebony, John (aka Crazy Ivan), Lady Christina, Virgo, JM Robin and Pippin.An extra super special thanks to Ebony, who's letting me write this and also to Virgo, who practically wrote a bunch of these scenes for me.Remember to check out the [HP_Paradise][1] list if you want to discuss or read the incoming chapters before they're posted to ff.net.Thanks everyone! 

For all the Ron/Hermione fans out there who've been feeling the effects of the missing lovin' from TiP, you're in for a special treat!Ginny/Draco fans: fear not.Though they're not in this chapter, they make a nice big appearance in the next one.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~****

**Not Quite Paradise**

_"It is easier to be a lover than a husband for the simple reason that it is more difficult to be witty every day than to say pretty things from time to time."_-Honoré de Balzac (The Physiology of Marriage)

# Chapter Three

## The Trouble With Men

Over the next week, Angelina's health improved drastically and both the Weasley and Johnson families let out a resounding relieved sigh.The doctors were impressed by her rapid recovery and the increasing strength of her unborn child's heartbeat.Fred still hadn't come back to work yet, and George still kept the matter concerning Parker Jackalope Practice Joke Enterprises under wraps.He insisted that putting more worry on his twin's mind would probably not be for the best and enlisted my help.

We were poring over old WWW records the following Friday morning.Before taking any legal action, I wanted George to make sure all his copyright listings for Canary Creams were in order in case we had to take the issue to court.Between Mr. Disorganized and myself, it took over an hour to find the filing cabinets in the back room before we could even think about searching for a particular file.George lifted up an old folder and blew the dust off the top.Unfortunately, I inhaled a mouthful of the wretched stuff and started a coughing fit.

"Are you all right?" George asked, the smile fading from his face.Had I not been clutching my throat and gasping for air, I would have shot back a sarcastic remark.He laid a gentle hand on my shoulder and, with the other hand, tapped his wand on my opposite shoulder."_Antiasthmatico_," he said.Instead of the instant relief I was used to, it took about a minute before the coughing even stopped and my throat remained raw afterwards.

"Better?" he asked, rubbing my shoulder.I nodded and massaged my sore neck.He watched me carefully for a few more minutes, as though I'd sprouted feathers, and then relented.He turned and picked up a pile of folders.

"Enough dust for you," George decided as he handed me a stack of files that were more or less clean."Why don't you go out front with these?I'll be out in a minute."I nodded, took the stack from him, and left the room to seat myself at the front counter.I began to page through the old files and came to the copyright claim on Canary Creams.

Wizard Product Patent Claim Form

The following product, Canary Creams, has been listed in the Wizard Product Copyright Patent Offices as an original product manufactured and sold under and only under the company name of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes unless further notice is provided by proprietors Frederick Weasley and George Weasley.

We understand that in event of error, omission or falsified information on the part of Messrs. Frederick and George Weasley, this document is thereby null and void.

Signed: Frederick Weasley

George Weasley

### Witnesses: Angelina Johnson

### Anya Parker

Supervising WPPO Official: Hunter Jackalope

Bingo.

"George!" I called in a loud croak, the final rawness from my throat disappearing.He emerged from the back room with his fiery hair and black robes streaked with dust.I held back snickers as he distractedly swiped at his clothing, making the smudges worse.

"Find something good?" he asked as he brushed his hair and a small cloud of dust formed above his head.Annoyed, he swatted his hands around in the air until the dust scattered, giggling madly.He gave a scowl and pulled a stool up beside mine.I waited a few moments for him to carefully scan the sheet, but he gave no response.

"I don't get it.I'm sure the patent office has a copy—"

"No, look," I interrupted, showing him the claim form, pointing to the final name on the list, the WPPO official."I'll bet you all the Galleons in Gringotts that he's related to Parker Jackalope," I said proudly, jabbing at the parchment.

"Right," George picked up, without missing a beat; "Jackalope would then be able to have all sorts of things tampered with down there through his son.That is, if the man is indeed Jackalope's son."

"It might be worth looking into," I shrugged, handing him the form.He grinned broadly and picked me up out of my stool, spun me around and set me back down.After giggling through a few moments of dizziness, I looked up at him dazedly, leaning heavily on my stool.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he grinned, tucking the parchment into his robes.He picked his wand up from the counter and rolled up the sleeves of his robes up to his elbows, looking as though he was preparing to Apparate."I'll be back soon."

"Where are you going?" I asked as I closed the now empty file.

"Parker Jackalope Headquarters," he answered."If I show him this, I bet he'll realize we've caught him before this thing even gets to court."

"Right.We wouldn't want it to get married," I said absently.

"What?" George paused in the middle of fixing his robes and gave me a confused glance.

"You know… court, married."He still looked as though he hadn't made the connection."Get it?"He shook his head.

"Erm… nevermind then.Don't worry about it."George rolled his eyes and Apparated away, muttering something about my status on the list of 100 Weirdest People in The Wizarding World Today.

Snickering, I returned the file back into the backroom, careful not to stir up any more dust.I took another pile of files carefully off the top of the cabinet, blew the dust away from me, and brought the whole stack out to the front counter.

Business was slow (rather odd for a Friday) and the files were boring.As record-keeper, I could understand what the legal gibberish meant and where everything more or less belonged, but everything should be in moderation.

Tired with the files and legalities, I put them aside after twenty minutes without finding anything interesting, save a love letter from Fred to Angelina that the latter apparently never received.How it got into the WWW files was beyond me, but I couldn't keep myself from reading it.Curiosity killed the Anya.

#### 30 December 1999

My Dearest Chocolate Frog,

You know I'm not a poet that can simply think of lovely words to say, words that would make you swoon and cry.Those skills are wasted on romantics.All I wanted to say is that I love you more than anything in the entire world and I don't know what I'd do if you were taken from me.You've listened to me when I was upset, you've calmed me when I was angry and you refuse to let me give up on my dreams.I'm quite sure I'll never get up the Gobstones to send you this letter, but I needed to write it.Tomorrow, we will be together to welcome the New Year (but, as you've argued frequently, not the new millennium) and I will ask you to be mine forever.I can only hope that you will say yes.

Your Sherbet Lemon,

#### Fred

After I finished reading, I felt awfully jealous of Angelina.In twenty-six years, I had never gotten a letter like that in my entire life.I looked at the date again and saw that it was the day before Fred had proposed, like the letter had said.I'd never thought Fred Weasley could be so… _poetic_ without intention.And I thought had him all figured out.Almost as an afterthought, I felt horrible, having intruded on Fred's personal thoughts that he'd intended for his eyes only.

I put the letter away shamefully, reminding myself to tell Fred to look in there without making it obvious that I had already seen it.

Hoping to distract myself, I took out a copy of _Witch Weekly_ and began slowly paging through it.I had never been too drawn into the latest fashions of the wizard world, preferring to stick to simple black robes and only two dress robes for formal occasions.The emerald green and fiery red garments were busy collecting dust at the back of my closet.

According to _Witch Weekly_, sky blue was the color that _everyone_ was wearing, but I reckoned I could survive another day without spending over forty Galleons on dress robes that I would never wear.The moving photo of an artificially grinning anorexic-looking young witch did highlight the item, but it still looked far too pastel for my dark wardrobe tastes.

I continued flipping through the magazine, pausing here or there when a picture or headlines caught my eye.I was so engrossed in my reading material that I didn't notice someone enter the store and come up to the counter until she spoke.

"Anya?"I looked up sharply, embarrassed, into the smiling eyes of Dr. Hermione Granger-Weasley.

"Hello, Hermione," I said brightly as I subtly slid the magazine off the counter and into my lap."What brings you by here today?"I planted my elbows on the counter and put my chin in my hands."George just left on an errand, but he'll be back soon.Fred is… well, I'm not sure, but he's probably at the hospital with Angelina."

"Actually, he's at home.Ron made him go home to get at least one decent night's sleep instead of kipping on that awful cot in Angelina's room.I actually came here with a few extra tickets to Ron's game tonight.Would you and George be interested in going?"By the oversized (albeit genuine) smile on her face and the enthusiasm with which she spoke of her husband, I could tell they were stuck in the "shag-constantly-ignore-world" step of the cycle of their relationship.Even an unskilled observer could spot the sequence of their marriage and it was dead obvious that they were so involved in each other that the outside world probably didn't matter much.Hermione's ever so slightly disheveled hair and very small lipstick smudge confirmed my suspicions.

"I can't speak for George, but I've got a lunch date today and I'm not sure how long it will last," I replied apologetically.It was a legitimate excuse, but I had never been much for Quidditch.Aside from the sporadic game of Ron's I was tricked into going to, I hadn't been to a formal Quidditch match since George's old games."I actually should be going pretty soon," I said idly, glancing at my watch.

"Oh, that's too bad.Maybe George—" At the mention of his name, the wizard in question popped suddenly in between two aisles of prank sweets.I put on a smile to ask how his visit to PJPJE had gone, but I snapped it shut when I saw the anger on his face.

"Lousy… smarmy… GIT!" he shouted, furiously.I stepped back in surprise as he stormed behind the counter and began to pace rapidly, using over exaggerated hand gestures."That Parker Jackalope has absolutely no sense of right and wrong."He paused to slam his fist on the counter in front of me.I jumped, startled, but he went on shouting."I get there, he pretends he doesn't know who I am, and _denies_ the fact that he even sent me the letter!"

"Did he look at the form from the WPPO?" I asked gently, apologizing for George's behavior to Hermione with my eyes.

"_Look_ at it?"He laughed bitterly."Oh, yes, he _looked_ at it."With this, he dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the shredded remains of the parchment.I watched as the scraps slowly drifted down to the counter, forming a ragged pile.George dropped his elbows to the counter and folded his hands behind his head."This is a total nightmare.I cannot deal with this man!" his muffled voice insisted.

"Erm… excuse me for intruding, but what's going on?" Hermione asked politely.I explained the situation to Hermione as George did a Reverse Shredding Charm on the WPPO form."Well," she said huffily, "I most certainly would not take that kind of behavior.George, you should Apparate right back to that horrible man's office and tell him you won't take that kind of conduct.I'm sure I've read somewhere about copyright matters and how there are certain statutes of limitations."

"Thanks, Hermione," George said quietly."I think I just need to stew over a few mugs of butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, clear my head and think about this whole ruddy… thing."He picked his head up and looked sideways at me."Don't you have to meet with that obnoxious Shelly woman this afternoon?"

"She's not obnoxious and yes, I do have a lunch date with her.You seemed to find nothing obnoxious about her when you were flirting with her the other day."I saw Hermione raise her eyebrows in interest.

"Flirting with a _witch_?Indeed, George, you simply must make up your mind," Hermione teased.Ron's teasing disposition from his Hogwarts days had partially rubbed off on her and she'd lightened up some.

"Why make up my mind when I can have twice the selection?" George said with a grin.I let out a relieved sigh, glad he didn't hold onto his anger like his immediate older and younger brothers.

"Well, though I'd love to sit here and tease George about his sexuality and make his ears turn red, I've got a lunch date with Shelly and her friend."

"Friend?" George said with suspicion.

"Sean Ludlam," I answered."I have a sneaking suspicion that she's trying to set me up with another guy."George winced at these words.

"I hope it doesn't turn out like it did with Daniel.Oy, that was a disaster," George said.I put my hands on my hips and snorted indignantly.

"Shall we stop analyzing my failed love life and allow me to leave?" I asked.Hermione laughed.

"You two are quite amusing to watch.You're like an old married couple," she observed."Always teasing each other."

"Married?To George?He's the most disorganized, impatient, easily-annoyed wizard I have ever in my life met."George looked genuinely offended at these words, so I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek."I'd never _marry_ him." I said, pulling out of his arms and getting my cloak from the coat rack. "But I wouldn't say no to the occasional shag."I winked at the two of them, rather pleased with my regularly lurking wit.

"She can't keep her thoughts clean about me," he said smugly to Hermione.I rolled my eyes, laughing in spite of the comment, and put my cloak on.Stabilizing my giggles, I bent to pick up my purse from the floor.

"Allow me to add 'arrogant' and 'severely misled' to that list," I said, shouldering my purse.Before he could put in another comment, I stuck out my tongue at him, waved to Hermione and Apparated away.

***

Dark and smelling of day-old butterbeer, the Leaky Cauldron was certainly a less than exceptional place to meet someone for the first time. I weaved in and out of the tables, ignoring leers from the shadier looking characters.

The small pub had changed a bit since I first wandered in to get to Diagon Alley.Whereas I would have found many children in there when I was younger, there were mainly adults there now.Tom, the friendly bartender who rarely charged kids for a small butterbeer, was gone.He had been yet another MIA soldier of VWII.

"Anya, over here!" a female voice called.I turned and saw Shelly sitting in a booth across from a nice-looking blonde man in simple black robes.She waved me over as he looked up to reveal his face.Mmm, so perhaps Shelly hadn't picked so badly this time.I strode over and the two of them stood.

"Anya, this is Sean Ludlam.Sean, this is my very good and _very_ available friend, Anya."I grew red with embarrassment as I shook his hand, but he laughed good-naturedly."Oh, you'll have to excuse Anya.She's remarkably shy with new people."

"It's nice to meet you then, Anya," Sean smiled.Ooh, his smile was nice, too.Shelly sat and deliberately placed her purse in the spot beside her.She gave a meaningful look at me as Sean sat and I scowled at her as I slid in the booth beside him.Anything more and she may as well have set up a candlelight dinner for just the two of us.

The talk was a bit stilted at first, as I had never had much in the department of conversational skills.Give me a hippogriff and I'll be able to earn its trust in minutes, but I couldn't do the same with people, unfortunately.After a while, I grew more into the conversation and found myself laughing easily at Sean's jokes and brushing off the smug look Shelly had on her face.It was confidence like I had never known it before.Our food arrived and conversing came to a stop for several minutes.

"So where do you work?" Sean asked, as he wiped a bit of ketchup from the corner of his lips.

"I work for my best friend; he owns his own business: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.I'm a record-keeper there, but hopefully it's only a temporary job," I answered.

"Yes," Shelly cut in, "Anya and George are good friends._Friends_."I sent another scowl in her direction and she retreated to her peanut butter and jelly sandwich (an odd fetish of hers that her American aunt had instilled in her at a young age).Sean attempted to hide his smirk as he looked down at his plate.I reckoned he'd caught on to Shelly's dark ulterior motives right around the time she began to complain that my house was far too big for a single witch.Her skills at being subtle were about equal to my own with, say, Potions.

"How about you?What is it you do to fill your time?" I asked Sean as I looked over at him.He set his fork down for a moment as he swallowed.He opened his mouth to answer, but Shelly cut him off.

"Sean is studying Quidditch under _Viktor_ _Krum_," Shelly said excitedly."He's going to be a reserve player on an international Quidditch team in the fall, isn't that right?"Sean started to reply, but Shelly went right on talking."Oh, look at the time!"She threw her hands up in the air dramatically."I've got an appointment with… erm… well, that's not important, is it?Why don't you two finish your food; you're getting on quite well!I'll pay the bill, as it was I who invited you two to lunch.Really, this is horrible of me to leave so suddenly, but I do have that _dastardly_ appointment."She began to get up and collect her things."Now you two finish eating and keep talking; you really are quite compatible.I'll be going now.Don't forget to owl, Anya."With a cheery wave, she scooped up her purse and left the table.

Sean and I watched in silence as she paid for the food, turned back to wave again and then left.

"That woman is a trip and a half," Sean said slowly, still looking at the door she had just exited through.He turned his light blue eyes on me.Those were very pretty, too."I don't know how you could have been her friend for so long.She's not a bad person, but… does she always talk that much?"I snickered into my napkin before looking back at him, and then shrugged.

"I guess," I answered.Why was it that I felt so uncomfortable under his crystal gaze?"She was a bit shy at Hogwarts."

"Shy?Her?"He laughed out loud and I couldn't help but giggle along with him.He shook his head as he pushed his empty plate away.The edge of the plate hit the vase of flowers on the table and almost knocked it over.Instantly, both our hands darted out and stopped the glass from falling.My hand got there first and his covered mine a moment later.

I waited a few moments for him to move his hand, but he didn't.And somehow, I didn't mind it.I drew my eyes away from our clasped hands and locked them with his.They seemed to be just about as shy as mine had to be._No more shyness_, I decided.I leaned close to him, closing my eyes slowly.

"Hey kiddies, hate ter innerup' yer romantic momint, but yer buddy was two Sickles short on yer bill," a gruff voice said from behind me.I spun quickly, color rising to my face.Jim, the not-so-friendly bartender, stood slouching in front of me with a sheet of parchment, our bill, and a grouchy look.

"Oh… sorry," I said, reaching into my purse.I felt a flush at the back of my neck as I pulled out two Sickles and stuffed them into Jim's hand.With a leer and a nod, he shuffled off, favoring his left leg considerably.

"Sorry about that," I said, avoiding Sean's eyes._He was probably glad to have gotten out of the kiss_, I thought, disappointed."Um… we'd probably better get going then," I went on quietly, still looking down at my folded hands and wanting to shrink into a little puddle.

"I'd like to see you again," Sean said softly.I looked up abruptly with raised eyebrows.Apparently, he mistook my reaction and looked away quickly.

"I mean… if you don't want to, that's okay.I understand—" He fiddled with his fork against the table, not looking at me.

"I'd like that," I said quietly.He looked over at me and smiled hopefully, dropping the fork.

"Really?"

I nodded with a smile of my own."Really."I let out a short laugh."But we may be making the horrible mistake of proving Shelly absolutely right about setting us up."

"Oh, no!" he moaned, dropping his face into his hands.He looked up and smiled at me.I couldn't help but giggle back in return.Why was it that I felt like I was twelve years old again when he smiled at me like that?"I won't tell her if you don't," he said.

"Lips are zipped," I agreed.We shook on it.

"So, if you don't have any plans…" Sean began, "The company that I work for is having a Fifty-Years-In-Business Party at the Golden Snitch at eight o'clock on Saturday.It's a huge, formal gathering; they have an anniversary party every year.I was wondering if you'd go with me."His hand moved to go tinker with his fork again, but I answered him before he could engage in his nervous activity.

"I'd love to," I answered softly.He broke into a large grin.

"Wonderful," he smiled."I'll pick you up at seven-thirty then?"I nodded and gave him my address and my word that I wouldn't back out.We parted (reluctantly at that), with me wondering why I hadn't met Sean Ludlam earlier.

***

"Did I mention that he has the greatest smile?" I said dreamily as I folded my arms over the books in front of me and rested my chin on my wrist.I looked sideways at George, who was sitting beside me, flipping through a book absently.

"Only about a dozen times, Anya," he answered patiently as he closed the book.He rubbed his eyes and yawned, leaning back in the wooden and severely uncomfortable chair."I bet Snape ordered these kinds of chairs so he could even torture people after he died," he muttered darkly.

We were in the Severus Snape Memorial Library, looking up even more information about copyrights and trying to get a bit of a handle on the Parker Jackalope business, which wasn't listed in any of the directories we'd looked in yet.George swore up and down that Snape had put spells on the bookshelves and directories, preventing the searcher from coming up with anything useful.I patiently informed him that Snape's son, Silvanus, didn't build the library until _after_ the former Potions master had been killed in VWII.It still didn't stop George from accusing the teacher.

All prejudices aside, the library was very elegant and classy.There were over a score of rows of long bookshelves and no less than one million spell books and reference directories.Dark mahogany tables with hard backed chairs decorated the center of the establishment and it was always lit with dozens of ornate candelabras.

It was too bad that Silvanus Snape, the (rumored to be illegitimately conceived) son of my torturous professor, was just as slimy and cruel as his father.He slunk around the library, turning up in the most inconvenient of places and hit on anything female with a pulse.I didn't know exactly what he did for an occupation, but he must have had a lot of free time, as he was constantly around the library.

"Maybe this company doesn't even exist, George," I said, as I gathered five books into a pile."Maybe Fred is behind it.Or Bill; he's been known to play practical jokes on occasion."

"No way.I went down to JPJPE headquarters and it is most certainly a real company.Why can't we find a listing for it, though?Oy, this is frustrating."He stood with me and took the five books out of my arms, adding them to his pile of six.

"Maybe if you did a little bit of research, you would know that companies that sell to Muggles _and_ wizards don't need to register with the Department of Wizarding Commerce.There's a separate directory for them," a greasy voice hissed from between a pair of bookshelves.I gasped and stepped backwards as Silvanus Snape slid slowly out of the shadows.

"Slinking around the library again, Snape?" George asked, annoyed as he shifted the books in his arms. "Or do you just give free advice to anyone who is unfortunate enough to stray across your path?"Snape raised a black eyebrow in amusement.

"Simply trying to help the dear lady," he said, locking eyes with me."I'm sorry if it inadvertently helps you."He reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.I flinched away violently at his touch."Fiery little creature, aren't you?"Without replying, I scowled at him.I wasn't flattered in any way by his attentions, as I had seen him do the same to other unsuspecting library patrons.

"Thanks for your advice," I said, struggling to be polite, a virtue my mother had instilled in me ever since I was old enough to remember.I shrank away from him a little bit; he always had the ominous dominance of his father should have patented; the same trait that I had been terrified of a mere decade ago.He took this as an inviting gesture and smirked.Before he could take another step towards me, I said automatically, "Leave me alone."He chuckled softly and I could see George step up beside me out of the corner of my eye.

"Aw, you don't mean that, do you, love?" he asked silkily.In a split second, his back was pinned against the bookshelves and George's arm was pressed against his neck, causing him to gasp for breath.George leaned in very close to Snape's face and spoke in measured tones.

"I believe she said to leave her alone.We've had enough of your 'good advice,'" George said dangerously, pressing harder on Snape's throat.Instead of showing pain, Snape clenched his jaw tightly and returned the glare.He tried to open his mouth, but George cut him off."And I don't care that this is your father's library.Will you leave us be?"

"Yes," Snape said, no sincerity in his voice and sounding as though he was not only choking, but also agreeing to mow the front lawn of Hogwarts with a pair of nail clippers.George pulled his arm away, but didn't step back until after Snape had Disapparated.

"You didn't need to choke him, George," I said quietly."I can take care of myself, you know."

"You were doing a damn fine job," George said a bit angrily.I ducked my head, if only to avoid his eyes.

"I'm trying," I said quietly to the floor, half-hoping he couldn't hear me."I want to be able to take care of myself.I don't want you to have to fight for me.I'm not that fragile and I'm not going to break."I looked back up at him to gauge his reaction.Instead of being meek and passive, I lifted my chin and looked at him defiantly.

His imitation of a Stunned herring gradually disappeared from his face and was replaced with slumped shoulders and a helpless look."Sorry, Anya," he said with a sigh."It's the big brother in me, I reckon.I looked at you and Snape and I saw Malfoy bothering Ginny.I'm… I'm sorry."

"Wow… heh… I sounded really spiteful just a minute ago, didn't I?" I said.I was actually rather proud of myself.Knowing I was a major hand in keeping 3W afloat, winning the attentions of an attractive wizard and being able to stand up to my best friend did wonders for my confidence.As I said before, it was confidence like I had never known it.

"Just a bit… c'mon, let's get going.I think I owe you an ice cream sundae from that Quidditch bet last week."He bent down and picked up the books that fell out of his arms when he'd lunged at Snape and put them under one arm.I was just about to remind him to check out the books when I remembered that wizarding libraries were different than Muggle libraries.After the two week limit, the books would return themselves back to the front desk, where the librarian would Spellotape any damages and send a charge to the last person who had it.When taking out a book, the name was clearly became stamped on the back inside cover only to be replaced by the next recipient's name.I'd been careful with all my books and had never once been charged.I was able to keep my clumsiness from destroying other people's belongings, at any rate.

We were just about to turn a corner when George held out his hand and stopped me.I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong when he put his finger over his lips and pointed to the center table.Just between the space between the top of the books and the shelf above, I could spot a red-haired man sitting beside a bushy-haired brunette, undoubtedly Ron and Hermione.

"I thought he had a Quidditch match," I whispered.

"Maybe it was a short game," he whispered back.Ron had his chin propped up on his hand and was watching Hermione read with a simple kind of fondness.Her reading glasses were perched low on her nose.After a few minutes of Ron's undivided attention, Hermione peered over the top of her spectacles and looked at him with an arched eyebrow.

"You're creepy," she giggled softly.He didn't answer, only leaned closer to her with a dreamy sort of smile on his face.I hoped I didn't look quite as absurd when I had been talking about Sean.She forced a smile off her face and went back to her reading.Ron smirked at this and I saw his hand counting off seconds beneath the table.At exactly five, Hermione dropped her book, plucked her glasses off her nose, threw her arms around Ron and kissed him hard.I covered my eyes for a few moments (to be polite, of course) and saw George snickering at me when I removed my hand.

"Now leave me alone," she said simply, going back to her book.Ron leaned in close and whispered something in her ear, causing giggles to burst forth.He kissed her ear gently and she squirmed away from him.

"We're so bad," I whispered, slapping George's arm."We shouldn't be watching this."George shrugged, relatively unaffected by his conscience.Suddenly, his eyes lit up mischievously.

"Hey, can you still do that impression of Snape like you did back in Hogwarts?" he asked deviously, remembering to keep his voice low.

"I can do _any_ voice," I said arrogantly, throwing my long brown hair over a shoulder.George grinned and nodded in his brother and sister-in-law's direction.I cleared my throat softly and hummed a low note to prepare my voice for what I was about to do.

"This okay, Weasley?" I asked in a voice so identical to Snape's that I might've scared myself.George nodded, looking impressed.I drew in a deep breath.

"WEASLEY!GRANGER!NO SNOGGING IN THE LIBRARY!" I roared through the books, almost terrified of my own impression of Snape.The voice worked, however, as Ron and Hermione jumped apart as though they'd waded into a pond of Electrifying Fish. Ron fell out of his chair completely and Hermione leapt up, looking around the library frantically.I turned away, putting my hand over my mouth to stifle my laughter.George leaned heavily against the bookshelf, turning purple in an attempt to stay quiet.

"See you… back… at… 3W…" he sputtered and Disapparated.I was right behind him.

When I landed on something soft, I had first thought it was Parrot Pillows, but then I realized it was George in between the pillows and me.He was laughing loudly, his head thrown back and his mouth wide open.I was laughing along with him as I rolled off him into the rest of the Pillows.George picked up a pillow and put it over his face to stifle the sound of his laughter.Tears rolled down both of our faces and I thanked Merlin that there weren't any customers, lest they think we were both complete nutters.

"That… was… the single funniest…" George tried to say, half-propping himself up, but he burst into another bout of laughter and fell back into the pillows beside me.I sat up beside him, giggles slowly dissipating, and wiped my eyes.

"Their faces!" I gasped, remembering the looks of sheer terror in their expressions.I put my hand over my stomach and caught my breath.

"I'm glad you two are having such a great time," a voice said evenly.I looked up, startled, to see Fred standing behind the counter looking as though he was attempting to suppress fury, but failed miserably.

"This isn't what it looks like," George said, still snickering."We both Apparated into these pillows…" He finally composed himself and sat up beside me."Hey, aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

"I was asleep… until I came here to see how the shop was going and found this."He lifted up a sheet of parchment that I recognized as the letter we were sent by Parker Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises.I gasped softly and looked to George, whom I had thought had had it.The smile quickly disappeared from his face and he stood, sobering.

"You weren't supposed to—" George began.

"I wasn't supposed to what?Know about what 3W is going through?The company _is_ half mine, as you've well forgotten!"The volume and harshness in Fred's voice brought back awful memories and I made no effort to bring any attention to myself quite yet.Weasley problems were best solved without outside intervention, which usually only served to complicate things.I would only get involved if I had to.

"Your wife has been in the hospital for the past week and you expect me to add more weight to your shoulders?Trust me, Fred; it's the last thing you need.Don't think that just because you're four and a half minutes older than me that you always know what you're doing!"

"I'm not talking about four minutes; I'm talking about your four bloody I.Q. points!" Fred shouted, losing his patience.Before it could go any further, I stood and placed myself between them.

"You two are behaving like children!" I said with a stamp of my foot."Fred, you were far too distracted with your wife's health to get involved.George, don't tell your brother he's stupid."I had the absurd urge to send the two of them to their rooms.Strangely, George and Fred looked equally impressed with me.

The both broke out in identical grins and said, in unison, "Yes, Mum."My arms flopped down to my sides and I glared between the two of them.

"She _is_ getting fiery," George said to Fred, nodding towards me.I ignored him and crossed over to Fred.

"How is Angelina doing?" I asked gently.Fred drew a deep breath as he spread his fingers out on the counter and looked at them with child-like interest.

"She's still sick," Fred said, his voice sounding very tiny."The doctors said that it was blood poisoning complicating with... with what happened when she was Sponged."Out of the corner of my eye, I saw George pale slightly, excuse himself quietly, and go to the backroom.Fred continued as though nothing had happened."She cut her hand on something and didn't… "He took a moment to compose himself."She didn't tell me.When she was in the hospital… I- I asked her why and she said she didn't want to bother me with it."He let out a short, bitter laugh devoid of all humor."She thought it would _bother_ me."

"She'll be okay, Fred," I said, answering my own question."Look, I know you two were on the rocks a bit before what happened – I of all people know that –" (Fred looked a little sheepish.) "I know this sounds morbid, but maybe this will bring you two closer together."

Fred nodded slowly."I surely won't ever take her for granted again."He smirked a little in amusement."Why didn't you go into psychowizardry?"

"Listen to a lot of nutters' problems?Yeah, right."I looked at the closed backroom door and frowned.Hadn't George just gone back there?Why would he shut the door behind him?

"You've got a lot of experience listening to nutters.You talk to yourself, don't you?" Fred cracked, looking a whole lot more like his old self.

"Yeah," I said vaguely, still looking at the closed door."Look, Fred, I'm going to see what's bothering George.I'll get you up to speed on the PJPJE case in a bit, all right?"He nodded, looking a little worried, but didn't stop me.I gave him a tense smile, slipped behind the counter and slowly let myself into the backroom.

The room was dark and I pulled out my wand, preparing to light it.

"Don't," George said somewhere in the darkness.Somehow, the strange sound to his voice combined with the dark room made me as nervous as Ron's old pet, Scabbers, around Hermione's late cat, Crookshanks.

"George? What are you sitting in the dark for?"I spotted movement where a dim ray of light had penetrated the dirty window and fell on George's flaming red hair.He was sitting on an old couch with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his hands.I crossed the room to him carefully and sat beside him.

He turned to look at me and his eyes were slightly red around the rims and shiny right where they were blue.He had the look of someone who had just been through something awful and didn't know how to deal with it.

"I just want to be alone for a little while, okay?I… I need to think," he said raggedly.I had never heard him ask me to leave him alone since Katie Bell's funeral almost eight years earlier.He had sat alone in a back pew, not speaking to anyone.When I slid in beside him to ask how he was doing, he said he wanted to be alone.I didn't argue then and I wasn't about to now.

"Okay… you know you can talk to me if something's bothering you, right?" I asked.He nodded.

"Thanks, Anya," he smiled and I saw a little bit of the old George coming back into his grin.As I left, I closed the door softly behind me.

##### To be continued…

Thanks to all of my reviewers, with whom this story is greatly enhanced:**Juliette** (Oy, sorry about the screwed up computer thing.I hope I've got it fixed now.), **magical*little*me** (I think Shelly's horribly obnoxious, actually. JHope you enjoyed the Sean/Anya interaction.), **Coriann** (Look over those names again and you might figure out who's on the memorial… and -- ::sighs:: -- no, George is not gay; he's bisexual.Did this chapter clear it up?), ***~*Ginny*~*** (Ack – you should've _seen_ the final scene before my betas chopped it to pieces.), **Slaybelle** (Mysterious little character, isn't she? And where would the fun be if you knew everything?), **Kris** (Who says he won't come to his senses?But then… who says he ever will?), **8Nocturnal8** (Reader of few words, eh?), **Susan** (Try reading each story closely for some more hints…), **HGW** (Aww…. Don't feel bad!), **Sphinx** (Thanks!Hope you continue to enjoy both stories.), and **Queen C** (Hey, it was marital problems, not me.).Big thanks to **K** and **Simon**, who spoke to me on HP_Paradise or off-list.

Ambiguously yours,

*~*~*JanaBelle*~*~*

"You can't be sure.Once you're sure, you're screwed." –Jim, "The Mole"

Ironically enough, he was the last to be eliminated.

   [1]: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HP_Paradise



	4. The Calm Before The Storm

**Author: **George Weasley's Girlfriend

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**Title:** Not Quite Paradise

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**Rating: **PG-13

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**Disclaimers: **Anything created by Ms. J. K. Rowling belongs to her; everything else, to me.****

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**Summary:** In early 2004, Voldemort has been defeated and the wizarding world is carrying on peacefully… or so it seems.Secrets, lies and dark pasts hold the key to the friendships built on years of trust.Will the friendships crumble under the pressure or carry the weight?

**A/N:** See previous chapters.Huge thanks to my betas: Ebony, John (aka Crazy Ivan), Lady Christina, Virgo, JM Robin and Pippin.An extra super special thanks to Ebony, who's letting me write this.Remember to check out the [HP_Paradise][1] list if you want to discuss or read the incoming chapters before (or after!) they're posted to ff.net.Thanks everyone!And.. er… G/D fans… I… heh… kind of lied when I said the couple would have a big appearance in this one.::ducks::It's an appearance… but it's small.::whimpers for forgiveness::Dedicated to Virgo, who tolerated a night of me being positively evil to her and still speaks to me.

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**Not Quite Paradise**

_"They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night."-Edgar Allen Poe_

# Chapter Four

### The Calm Before The Storm

"Another one of your rooks bites the dust," George announced triumphantly, watching as the struggling chess piece was dragged away.I scowled at him and made the next move.Playing chess with George (losing horribly, of course), was always fun, especially when he pretended he wasn't letting me win.After finally taking one of his pawns, I looked up to see that he wasn't looking at the board any more.His eyes were focused on a spot somewhere behind me.I turned in my seat and saw he was looking at the top of the staircase leading from the girls' dormitory.

Katie Bell stood at the top of the stairs, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders.She was standing alone, a book tucked casually in her left arm and blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight streaming from the large window.I had always been horribly jealous of the girl's looks and popularity.Who wouldn't be?She had the attentions of the majority of the male population, even if those attentions were passing whimsy.

My best friend and truth be told, pretty much only real friend, had joined the masses and had become unbearably smitten with the attractive Gryffindor Chaser in past weeks.He often came to me for advice on girls (Since Fred had told him that girls really liked to sleep with frogs in their beds, I was the only one whose advice he trusted.) and I tried to give guidance on how to approach the potential relationship, but it wasn't exactly my strong department.

"Wow," he said quietly.I turned around and looked at him.His eyes were locked on her and his jaw was practically resting on the chessboard.

"Watch out or you'll swallow a bug," I said dryly.He didn't react.

"Men are so animalistic," my black queen said from her spot on the board."They see one attractive female and –poof- all rationality is out the window!"She glared at her husband, who was leering suggestively at George's eyelash-batting queen.She gave him a hard rap on the side of the head and he fell to the ground, surprised.I smirked at them and arched an eyebrow at George, whose ears were flushing red.

"Go ask her," I urged him.Since I had gotten him to admit that he had a crush the size of the giant squid, he'd been trying to get up the Gobstones to ask her to go with him to Hogsmeade the next free weekend.Closest thing to a date you can get while attending a boarding school, I had told him.He looked uncertainly between the chessboard and me."I was just going to let you win anyway," I insisted.He grinned at this and began to stand, his hands resting on the table.

"Wish me luck?" he said a little nervously.I nodded and patted the top of his hand.

"You'll do great.May the Force be with you."My Muggle father was a science fiction movie fanatic and he had me watch the entire Star Wars series at least once a year.George looked at me strangely for a moment, gave a reluctant thumbs-up and headed for Katie.

"Sorry, guys," I said to the chess pieces."Looks like we'll see each other again next rainy day."I cleaned off the board and put my pieces into a tiny satchel, one my mother had left for me in her will.In my mind, I could see my father's eyes tearing up as their lawyer read the parchment.No, no, no!In the past, I told myself.

"I'll play," a voice said from across from me.I looked up and saw Hermione Granger sitting in the seat across from me, looking almost unnatural without a few books clutched tightly to her chest."I promised Ron that I would play chess against him this afternoon and I would like to beat him just once before graduation.I could use all the practice I can get."I smiled gratefully, nodded and set up the board again.

Hermione held control of the white pieces and I, the black.

"George is quite taken with Katie, I see," Hermione said.

"Oh, definitely.But then, who isn't?"Hermione's black knight advanced forward and took two white pawns in successive turns."I think a nice healthy crush is good for him.He needs it to take his mind off… well… everything."

"I could use something to take my mind off everything," Hermione said, planting her chin on her hand and gazing down at the board with chocolate eyes.She continued to speak and I didn't dare interrupt her.Spilling emotions to someone whose last name wasn't Potter or Weasley was unheard of.She reached out and fiddled with a pawn before dramatically sliding it into my rook and removing my dark piece from the board.

"Ever want something so badly… so much… and then be denied it?"I opened my mouth to answer, but she continued."Would you ever settle for something quite similar… something that made you happy, but it just didn't fit right?"I took a moment to think about this.I wanted my mum back more than anything in the world.I prayed for some sort of mistake, some error, which would give my mother back to me alive and healthy.I was denied such happiness.So I settled for being raised by my father alone after that.I loved him and I was happy, but things would never completely fit the way it was when it was all three of us.Hermione took another two of my pawns.Knight advances, takes rook."Is it worth all the suffering to get what you really want… if something else will make you almost as happy?"

"I think so," I whispered.I picked up my bishop and slid it across the board in front of the king."Check."Hermione looked down at the board, puzzled."Hermione, you're smart and you're pretty and you're talented… I can't imagine you not having something you want.Everything, Hermione, is right at your fingertips."I must've been concentrating too hard on being profound and didn't see Hermione's rook sneak inconspicuously across the board and plant itself before my king with a defiant smirk.

"Maybe… maybe not," she mused.We were silent, then, as the chess pieces hopped into their satchels and the two kings worked together to try and fold the chessboard.Hermione and I were friends, I suppose, but each day I saw her, she was a little more different.A little less like me, a bit farther.She was slipping away slowly, I knew that much, and I wondered whose arms she would fall into.

Just as I folded up the chessboard (somehow, two tiny pieces of ivory couldn't do it themselves), I caught a hulking shadow out of the corner of my eye near the slightly ajar portrait hole.I turned quickly, my heart pounding.Something wasn't right.The shadow remained there, but no one was standing nearby to create it.

I looked back at George, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs talking to Katie.She was smiling (a bit artificially, to be honest) but George was positively beside himself.Neither noticed the shadow.Hermione had curled up on a pouf with a book and there were about five other Gryffindors in the common room.I was the only one who noticed the shadow.When I turned to look back at it, it was gone.

Odd.

Curiosity killed the little girl without enough sense to keep her nose out of everyone else's business, as my father used to say.I walked over to the portrait hole and looked around.Nothing.I creaked the portrait open slowly and looked each way down the corridor.No one.I shrugged and turned to go back in, but the Fat Lady was gone, probably off to gossip in another portrait.

"Oh, bollocks," I muttered, scuffing my feet on the ground.A short walk would do me good anyway, as my legs were a bit stiff from being curled up in the chair.I looked down at my feet as I walked – as I always did – and saw that there was a smudge of something on the top of my left sneaker.I never was all that neat.I was so completely absorbed in looking at my shoes (never took much to amuse me), that I ran smack into someone.

I snapped my head up as I recoiled a few steps and gasped loudly.It was a shadow, standing straight in front of me in the center of the hallway.As much as I had been astounded by all the new things I encountered in the wizarding world, this most certainly was not anything I had encountered before; I had only read about it in books.

I backed away slowly, my heart pounding in my chest.Get a teacher, my mind screamed.Someone had to know someone was in the castle, unauthorized.Someone who made himself Dim.

Dimming is a complicated magical process and is usually only available to those who are impaired in another magical field.Only the most powerful of wizards and witches could have Dimming capabilities along with full magical talent.Without the aid of a cloak, invisibility is impossible.The closest thing in the wizarding world to invisibility is to be Dim.Skilled observers are the only ones who can see those who enchant themselves Dim.Like Muggle eyes slip right over the Leaky Cauldron entrance, amateurish spectators don't see Dims; their eyes just aren't trained for it.

The shadow darkened and colorized but my eyes focused on a dark brown rod – a wand – pointed directly at me.My wide eyes remained frozen on the wand as the figure surrounding it became three-dimensional.A person materialized before me, but I couldn't quite make out the face under the dark hood of the flowing robes.I'm not quite sure I wanted to, as the voice was familiar.

"Out on your own.You never were bright.Pity, pity," the voice hissed, cold as death.The world around me dipped in temperature until it was freezing cold.I knew that wasn't how it was supposed to be.I was trembling badly, but I was sure it wasn't from the lack of warmth.

"Respori—"

Someone far away shouted, "NO!" and a blast of blue light shot out of the front of the hooded figure's wand.All of these things came together as my chest cavity tightened and I felt that my feet were no longer on the ground.A sharp pain in my head drew my senses together for one brief moment and then darkness closed around me.

*******

"HELP!" I screamed as I bolted upright into a sitting position.My chest heaved as I easily inhaled lungs full of fresh, clean air.I ran a hand over my forehead and wiped sweat from my brow as I attempted to control my breathing.Third time this month.I could never remember the nightmare – the memory – being quite so frequent.I turned and looked out my window.For a moment, I was confused by the fact that it was still light out.Then I realized that it must have been nearly noon.Was it Sunday?That sounded right.

I threw my covers off and swung my feet over the edge of the bed.I placed my face in my hands for a moment, letting the last remnants of the nightmare slip out of my mind.It would never truly leave; I knew that much, but it was better not to dwell on it.Since when had I done things that were right for me?

The content of the dream, hellish as it was, was factual.It happened.An innocent chess game, a glance at a shadow, a five minute walk… 

I suppose I might've been the one victim who got off the easiest.

The first day of the Scourge is a day that will be remembered in wizarding history for as long as we survive.Never before had innocent children been murdered in a place that was prided to be one of the safest in the wizarding world.Of the 2000 students and forty-six faculty members, 1808 students and nine faculty members were left standing at the end of five months.Standing, of course, in the most literal sense of the word.Many eventually went mad from the witness to bloodshed and the horror of lost security.Those who survived didn't have the luxury of a wiped memory.

It was an average Thursday afternoon in March 1996.Three days after Ron's birthday, if memory serves me.Students were wandering the grounds, doing homework or even playing chess.

I found out later that it would be the known as the deadly calm before the storm.

Over one hundred Death Eaters were able to slip into Hogwarts unnoticed.They were all Dimmed.A few other survivors reported seeing the "shadows" I did, but none were stupid enough to go out walking after it.Eventually, Professor McGonagall, either seeing a Dim herself or a student reporting it to her, alerted the students all over the grounds and sent them to their dormitories.

Meanwhile, I lay in the Charms hallway in a pool of blood.

I was never told how I got from the hallway to the infirmary.Someone did tell me that they saw a student carrying me, but couldn't discern an identity.I often wondered why the Death Eater hadn't killed me, when so many others had lost their lives in the following weeks.He – or she, maybe – must have been protecting their cover.Allow a student to go running to the Headmistress?Never.But kill them and arouse suspicion?Couldn't happen.I had been found near a staircase; it was supposed to be an accident.

Mine was hardly the only blood shed.The murders took place in the hallways, outside on the steps and within the dormitories.Some were subtle deaths, disguised as accidents.Others were blatant murders leaving no question as to the intent.Cold bodies were left lying across beds, on the stairs, and floating in the lake.The body of Rubeus Hagrid, my teacher, mentor and the first magical person I ever met after my mum, was found suspended in mid-air in the Great Hall, floating like some sort of oversized grotesque marionette puppet.The first day of April gave the world a look at what was left of Padma Patil in the Forbidden Forest.Laura Madley, a second year Hufflepuff, lay sprawled across the Quidditch stands, all of her blood neatly bottled in a vial beside her just a week before April ended.

We all thought it had come to an end when six days passed without deaths.We all paused to take a breath, to readjust to normalcy – well, as normal as things could be under the circumstances.

Maybe that's what made it so easy for the Death Eaters to catch us off-guard.

The May Day Massacre humbled us once more.Our lives would be forever changed after the horrific display of blood and killing.Of the remaining survivors of the Scourge and the Massacre, sixteen ended their own lives within three years of the horrendous event.Another eight were committed to the psychiatric ward at St. Mungo's.

As I've said, I was one of the luckiest.

No one believed I had seen a Dim.Not at first, anyway.McGonagall dismissed it as a sharp knock to the head clouding my senses and that I dreamed up the entire matter after a nasty spill down the stairs.Then again, she may have just said that in case she feared the Dims were listening in.I would never know.George gave the standard, "I believe you thought you saw someone in the hallway" but never met my eyes when I discussed it.It was as though he knew something more about what had happened, but concealed it out of some sort of embarrassment or guilt.I never knew why or what his secret was.I wasn't exactly sure I wanted to know.

Rubbing my face vigorously to physically wake myself up and banish the memories from my mind, I stood and walked to the kitchen yawning.I stumbled over something soft and furry and caught myself before tumbling to the ground.

"Meow?" Stevie asked.I bent down and stroked my cat's head; he purred at my soft touch.

"Troublesome little bugger," I said, ruffling his fur.He wove in and out between my legs as I walked through the doorway into the kitchen."You think you can just lounge around here and drink all my milk and expect me to tolerate you, don't you?"He just widened his big, blue kitty eyes and nuzzled my left ankle before trotting off.

I started for the coffeepot when I realized that a glass of wine would better calm my nerves.It had to be after five _somewhere_ in the world.After pouring myself one, and curling up in my big, soft armchair that I had seen my dad read the newspaper in every morning for years, I was finally calm enough to prepare for the day.My date with Sean wasn't for another three hours according to the clock on my kitchen wall (Oy, I _had_ slept in late.).Plenty of time to take a long, hot bath, catch up on some reading and be ready in time for his arrival.

I had only put away the wine and washed my wine glass when the upbeat song of "I Put My Hand in There" from _Hello, Dolly!_ resounded through my house.I'd had extra time on my hands one rainy afternoon and had enchanted my doorbell to play different Muggle Broadway songs.

I answered the door, still in my pajamas and with my hair looking like a hippogriff had slept in it.Shelly was there, a large bag over her shoulder.I kicked myself for completely forgetting that she was coming over to, as she put it, "prepare me for the first night of the rest of my life."As soon as I had told her about Sean asking me to be his date, her switch had been flipped on Red Alert.

"What's up?" I yawned as I let her in the house.She stepped in excitedly and embraced me in a warm hug.

"Good afternoon, dearie!Well, I just can't _believe_ you're not dressed yet.You lazy slug," she teased.I smirked, knowing full well that she loved to rag on me because of my late rising status."Now where shall I set up?"She looked around the room distractedly before settling her eyes on me again.

"Er… set up?"

"Oh, over here will do nicely," she decided.She crossed the room to an empty spot and pulled her bag off her shoulder.I watched, as she seemed to take a never-ending assortment of beauty products, both magical and Muggle, out of her bag and assemble a parlor table and mirror.

"Um… what're you doing?" I asked, running a hand through my hair.Ugh… a shower was definitely in order.

"Getting ready to get _you_ ready, of course," she said, as though I had just asked her what my own name was."Now why don't you take a shower and it'll be easier for me to work with your hair all nice and wet and clean and straight then?"

"I've got almost three hours until I'm going to be picked up…" I told her."Why don't we just—" Shelly looked scandalized at my very words."Or I could go take a shower now."Forcing away another yawn, I crossed to my bathroom, yanked a towel out of the hall closet and disappeared behind the closed door.

Thirty minutes later, the door swung open again and I stepped out with my body wrapped in one towel and my hair in another.After changing into old jeans and a t-shirt (Muggle clothes were SO much more comfortable), I pulled the towel off my head and shook my hair like a wet dog.I may have had to get up ridiculously early but there was no chance I was going to wear scratchy dress robes for any longer than I had to.

With flair and an overexaggerated sidestep, Shelly pulled the chair she'd Summoned from my kitchen table and gestured for me to sit.I sat, smiling sleepily from the warmth of the water I'd had in the shower that made my muscles turn to jelly.I looked at my reflection, crossing my eyes and sticking out my tongue.

"A bit giddy this afternoon?" Shelly asked with a smile as she looked up from her bag of make-up.

"Uh huh."I yawned one last time and shook my head, all at once realizing how hungry I was.I began to stand, but Shelly placed her hands on my shoulders and stopped me.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked, in a disapproving motherly sort of voice.

I groaned softly and lowered myself back into the chair, wondering how I had ever let Shelly talk me into this.

"I have until seven-thirty," I had told her."Can't I just have some time to sit down and relax and—oof!"Shelly had grabbed my hand and plopped me down in the chair before I could finish my sentence.She had fretted over my hair and finally decided to straighten it even more and curl soft tendrils around my face.I wanted to look at it, but she refused to let me see until she was all done.She even tried to put Muggle make-up on me ("Spells don't work _nearly_ as well as Muggle powder, Anya."), but I drew the line when it got excessive.My freckles were covered for no one.

At six-thirty, she informed me that neither of my two dress robes was dressy enough for the event.Thus, she (surprise, surprise), brought over some of her own.

I was touched by her attention to making sure I had the night of my life, but she just got a bit overwhelming.I was just thinking of the nicest way to tell her to back off a little, when she pulled the most beautiful dress I had ever seen in my entire life out of her brown bag.

Pale blue with long, delicate sleeves, the dress must have cost a fortune.A thin black stitching of flowers traveled all the way around the bottom hem.It was the exact same dress I had seen in _Witch Weekly_.It looked too short for Shelly, but just the right size for me.

"Try it on," she invited, amused, as my low-hanging jaw slowly closed.

"I couldn't…" I whispered."I'd tear it or… or… I'd ruin it or something.Oh, it must have cost a fortune!"

"Don't worry about it, love.I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but now is a better occasion, don't you think?"She turned her head sideways and held out the dress for me.

"I… it's beautiful…" I said, taking it gently from her.I was almost afraid I would damage it by merely holding onto it."I… I don't know how to thank you… all this…"

"Just let me be maid of honor at your wedding," Shelly said with a smile, "And we'll call it even."I smiled and nodded as I looked at the dress.I imagined myself in it dreamily.

"I need _someone_ to give me away, don't I?" I said absently, still focused on the dress.I looked up at Shelly, whose smile had faded."What is it?" I asked.She had a funny look on her face, as though she was casting pity on me.

"You're a lot stronger than you think, Anya," she said slowly.

"Oh, no.Don't you start with that you-lost-your-whole-family-you're-the-strongest-person-I-know rubbish because you just want to make my ears turn red.Besides, you know I couldn't've made it through without my friends," I replied before I let myself get upset.Shelly never could quite understand how I could get through life without having any family left.Sometimes, _I_ didn't even know.

The smile returned to Shelly's face."Go get dressed then, silly."I grinned broadly, the tension eased and headed for the bathroom.I emerged a few minutes later, fully dressed in the blue robes.

As I was changing, I found myself wondering if maybe Muggles ran the company Sean worked for and that was why he had avoided telling me about his workplace.I asked her this as soon as I came out of the bathroom.She came up to me, fussing with the hem and answered.

"Well, it _is_ run by a wizard, but the company also sells to Muggles.I talked to Sean about it and he told me that wizarding attire would be best, as it's held at the Golden Snitch in Diagon Alley which is _very_ off-limits for Muggles.Oh, and I remembered the name of the company: Parker Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises."

Uh-oh.

"What?" I asked, my eyebrows rose nearly to my hairline.Perhaps I had heard wrong.There was no way it could be the same company.

"Parker Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises," Shelly repeated absently as she adjusted my hair."It's kind of like Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, but PJPJE sells to Muggles, too.A pity, too, as they can't use too much magic in their products."

"Oh," I said profoundly.I told myself it wasn't a big deal.It's not like he'd deliberately kept the information from me.But had he been vague on purpose?Doubtful, as Sean didn't come across as the type of person who would hide the information.Then again, I didn't know him all that well.Maybe he had felt awkward about it after hearing about me working at 3W.

"Love, you look pale as a ghost; are you sure you don't want any make—" began Shelly, but I cut her off.

"No freckle-hider," I said.She giggled at this and put her hands up in mock surrender.She circled me like a vulture, studying me carefully and making minute adjustments.

"Then I believe I'm finished," she announced, placing her hands on my shoulders."How's this for 'the pretty girl's mousy friend'?" Shelly asked in a whisper as she turned me around to face the mirror.

Whoever was reflected in the mirror was most certainly not me.Her dark brown hair fell gracefully over her shoulders and soft tendrils of the same colored locks gently framed her face.Her green eyes shone brightly through dark-as-coal eyelashes and her red lips were slightly parted in wonder.The witch in the mirror was not me.The witch before me was _beautiful_.

I winked with my left eye.So did the reflection.I winked my right eye.So did the reflection.I wrinkled my nose and stuck out my tongue.So did the reflection.

"What have you done to me?" I whispered.Shelly's reflection frowned.

"You don't like it?" she asked, her voice tinged with disappointment.

"No, no," I said quickly, still trying to convince myself that the mirror was showing the true reflection."It's just that… I look so… not… me.I look beautiful."Shelly broke out into a wide grin.

"Oh, you _are_ beautiful, dearie!I just turned your quiet beautiful into a loud beautiful."She clapped excitedly.

"Deafening," I agreed, recognizing my freckles and beginning to accept the illusion.I touched my face and the witch in the mirror did the same."This is wonderful." Shelly waved off my words.

"I know I got a bit pushy with you and Sean earlier…" _Understatement_, I thought."I just wanted to fix things."I smiled at her and pulled gently on one of the curls near my face.I giggled, far too easily amused, as it bounced upwards.

"You're just a grown-up little kid, you know that?" Shelly said with a smirk."Now stand up and let me see how you look."Not used to the shoes Shelly had lent me, I wobbled a little but straightened and held my balance.Shelly circled me slowly, blue eyes studying me carefully.

"Hmm… shorter heels, I think," she said.A quick murmur of a spell and I felt myself sink a few inches closer to the ground."Ah, much better.Let's see… maybe if I pulled back some of your hair… just half up… curl the ponytail…" She tried this, wrapping the pulled back hair around her wand and whispering, "_Circlium_.""Honey, you are an absolute dream come true!" she said, stepping back to look at me."If that man doesn't fall head over heels in love with you, I will give up matchmaking and makeovers forever."I almost laughed at this last remark, as Shelly just wouldn't be Shelly without her beautician-esque qualities.

The sound of "The Music and the Mirror" from _A Chorus Line_ playing through my house distracted Shelly from her alterations.

"He's here!" Shelly clapped excitedly."Oh, you wait in the bedroom then, love, and I'll come back and get you when it's time, all right?"

"But I'm ready…" I began, confused.Shelly put her hands on her hips and shook her head impatiently at me.

"That doesn't matter!It's customary to make a man wait… Absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"I guess…" I said uncertainly.

"You look wonderful, dearie.You're going to make him melt into a little puddle at the sight of you."She gave me one more once over as the volume of the music rose several levels, meaning Sean was getting impatient with the doorbell.Shelly nervously fixed a ringlet of hair and scurried to the door.She waved me towards the bedroom and I went inside, my stomach tying in knots.

I sat patiently on the bed, reciting all the different species of dragons, an old nervous habit of mine._Antipodean Opaleye… Chinese Fireball…_I heard Shelly's tinkling laughter and Sean's low voice asking where I was.

"Oh, she's just putting the finishing touches on her make-up.She'll be out in a few minutes," Shelly replied.I scowled at the slightly flirtatious tone that her voice took._Common Welsh Green… Hebridean Black…_ They made small talk for a few moments and then I heard Shelly say loudly, "Why don't you have a seat and I'll see if she's ready yet?"Ah, my cue, finally.I stood and smoothed down my dress._Hungarian Horntail… Norwegian Ridgeback…_

Shelly poked her head in my room.

"Time to go, love," she said excitedly.I took a deep breath, telling myself that it was only a date and it was only a party._Where everyone else is going to be positively beautiful and you're just an awkward mousy little nothing_, my inner cynic taunted.

"Shut it," I muttered.Shelly looked at me, hurt."No, not you," I said quickly.She frowned and her eyes searched the room quickly.Finally, she shook her head and opened the door wider for me to exit.I slowly (and solely out of fear of falling with the new heels on) left the room and walked quietly into the sitting room.

Sean Ludlam was standing in the idle of the room, holding a small replica of an Ashwinder, my absolute favorite magical beast.The tiny creature is pale-gray with glowing red eyes.The actual creature only lives for an hour before dissolving into a heap of ashes.Their eggs, unhatched and frozen, are important, irreplaceable ingredients in Love Potions.

I cleared my throat politely and Sean looked up abruptly.His lips parted slightly as he saw me and his fingers bobbled with the Ashwinder.He was able to snatch it out of the air with his left hand quickly (Seeker material, definitely) and placed it on the tea table, his eyes still not leaving me.

"You…" he began, and then swallowed nervously, "You look very beautiful."I blushed red and caught myself before I could shake my head.

"Thank you," I said quietly.It was just then that I noticed his attire.He was wearing dark blue robes with a light blue tie that had palm trees on it.It somehow seemed to match his dirty blonde hair and crystal azure eyes, if only in a boyish sort of way."You don't clean up so bad yourself," I offered.He looked down at himself, breaking his eyes from me for the first time, and chuckled.

"What, this old thing?" he said with a dismissive wave.I laughed as he offered his arm to me."Shall we go?"

***

From the moment we entered the Golden Snitch, the timid Anya inside me wanted to run home, away from the loads of witches and wizards present, and hide beneath the covers of her bed with her cat, Stevie.Any chance of that happening dissipated when we stepped inside and handed our coats to the bouncer, Marcus Flint.He nodded us through after checking our names off the list and then he grunted and pointed to an open guest book on a tiny table with two quills lying in the crease.

I smiled politely and let Sean lead me to the table.He picked up a pen and signed his name is flourishing script.I picked up the other and signed my name inconspicuously beneath it.

#### Sean Ludlam

Anya Parker

Our names looked so… strange right next to each other.They looked so completely different that it almost seemed they belonged together.

_You're overanalyzing this, Parker_, I told myself._Shut it and have a good time_.I smiled up at Sean as I set the quill down.He was running his fingers gently over the list of names, looking confused.He seemed to catch himself and shake his head furiously.I pretended not to notice what he'd done when he looked over and smiled at me uneasily.

"Why do they keep a guest book?" I asked.Most company parties, at least for 3W, were come and go as you please rather than a checking in and out sort of thing.

At that moment, the orchestra began to play a slow waltz.And it wasn't some pathetic five-piece band wannabe.It was a full orchestra with an expansive woodwind section and resonating brass.The percussion was soft, but accented the song so wonderfully you would think it was controlled by magic all on its own.

"Care to dance?" Sean asked, offering a hand.I smiled shyly and took it.

"Sure, stranger."The next moment found me in his arms towards the edge of the dance floor.I felt warm there; maybe not safe (Not that I thought he wasn't a gentleman, but I always have had trouble trusting new people), but warm was definitely a step in that direction.

We didn't speak, but it was a well-filled silence.The music and lively chatter of the guests around us filled the room so much that speaking would only make it more crowded.It also gave me a chance to get a good look around.

Parker Jackalope Practical Joke Enterprises definitely had money to throw around, or at least played off the façade that they did quite well.I had heard from the _Prophet's_ Society pages that The Golden Snitch was a seedy place, but I could see nothing seedy about it.Great banners with the company name emblazoned across the center festooned the walls.The text flashed between green and orange, the company colors.There were thin strands of fairy lights lined the borders of these banners and twinkled all different colors.

The main dance floor was filled with couples, but enough room to move around a bit.The orchestra was off to the left side of the Snitch and one large table raised high above the floor was occupied by what looked to be the higher authorities of the company.

Thirteen people sat at the table, six of them women and the other seven men.Hmm… it was nice to see that even if Parker Jackalope was a royal pain in the arse, he wasn't a sexist.My face fell slightly when I saw that all the females were drop-dead gorgeous and seemed to be very scantily clad – even for a flashy party.Five of the six were each leaning very close to the nearest male, giggling shamelessly.It was rather pathetic actually.

The only female who seemed to have respect for herself (and taste in clothing) was seated at the far left end, tapping her quill on the side of her water glass.With an annoying expression, she brushed a lock of dark blonde hair behind her ear and began to scratch on her parchment.

My eyes wandered from her and started down the table… but they stopped on the man in the middle.

Parker Jackalope.

My first impression of him was that he was almost handsome in a dark, sinister sort of way.He had black eyes set back in his face and dark hair combed with the utmost precision.From what I could see, he seemed to be a well-built man with squared shoulders and a jaw to match.When I had finished looking him over, the only part of my initial judgment that remained was the sinister part.I had absolutely no doubt in my mind that he would think nothing of shutting down 3W without so much as a blink of an eye.

His gaze shifted from the entrance and locked with mine, so penetrating that I shivered.I stepped forward Sean almost involuntarily and he wrapped his arms more snugly around me.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking down at me.I hadn't noticed until then how tall he actually was.I nodded and rested my head softly against his chest, closing my eyes halfway.It was amazing how long the song was, but I didn't particularly mind.

So _that_ was the man that wanted to take Canary Creams off the 3W market.Bubotuber-sucking prat.His company had enough money to throw elaborate parties such as these every year and he still felt the need to send off stuffy copyright notices to competitors.They were probably even falsified reports, too, as it was far too much of a coincidence that someone with the last name Jackalope was tied to the registration of Canary Creams in the first place.

The song came to a slow, sweet ending and I pulled slowly out of his arms.

"That was nice," I said shyly.He smiled and agreed.

"Sean!Sean, old sport!" a voice called from across the noisy room.A few partygoers looked disapprovingly over their shoulders and raised their snobbish noses at the jovial man breaking his way through the crowd.

The first time I laid my eyes on the man, I had the distinct feeling that I had met him before.In fact, there was something about him that was so familiar that I was positive I had seen him somewhere before.But another part of my mind insisted that it was more the mannerisms of the wizard that I recognized than physical features.

"Hello," Sean said politely, as though he didn't know the man from Merlin.The new stranger, who had dark brown hair with matching eyes and a nose that looked just a bit too small for his face, didn't seem to notice.

"Don't think I've introduced myself yet," the stranger said with an apologetic smile."The name's Gatsby.Jay Gatsby."If I had been drinking something, I'm sure I would have choked on it.Since my father had given me my mum's old dusty copy of F. Scott Fitzgerald's _The Great Gatsby_, it had been my favorite Muggle work of literature.My mind spun as Sean and Gatsby shook hands.

Meeting a man that seemed terribly familiar to me and happened to have the exact same name as my favorite literary character cranked the night's weird-o-meter up to a solid eight.I watched as Sean and Gatsby exchanged conversation, Gatsby becoming more and more exuberant as the discussion continued.

"And who is this lovely lady?" Gatsby asked, seeming to notice me for the first time.

"This is my date, Anya Parker," Sean said, looking mildly annoyed.It didn't escape me that he accented the word "my" as Gatsby lifted my hand gently and pressed his lips to it.A shiver ran down my spine at this, but I wasn't entirely sure it was a bad thing.Sean didn't notice, or if he did, he didn't say anything.

"What do you think of the party so far, old sport?" Gatsby asked.His accent was definitely faked and I could not tell exactly what sort of voice tone he was going for."Jackalope is doing a fine job of ignoring everyone," he said with a nod towards the head table.

Sean smirked at this and relaxed a bit.

"As always," he said."The smarmy bloke thinks he's too good to consort with us pitiful employees.No wonder nobody likes him."This seemed to be just the thing Gatsby wanted to hear.They continued to talk and I kept an attentive eye on the both of them.The more relaxed Sean got around Gatsby, the more excited my "literary hero" became.Sean wasn't aware of it, but Gatsby was asking a lot more questions than he was answering and was skillfully dodging most questions asked of him.There was definitely something amiss about Jay Gatsby.

It wasn't until two hours later that a thin-faced white-haired wizard stood up at the front of the head table and requested that everyone take their seats.Sean took my hand and led me through the crowd (Gatsby had disappeared a while ago, looking for another employee to suck information from) and we snagged a pair of seats at a corner table.

"That bloke was strange," Sean said, seating himself beside me.I nodded vehemently."Know him?"

"No," I said slowly, "I can't help but think I've seen him somewhere before, though…" I shook my head."I'll think of it sooner or later.Actually, he behaved more as though he knew _you_."

Now it was Sean's turn to shake his head."Never saw him before in my life… not around the shop anyway."

"Shop?"

"Well, that's where I work at PJPJE.I help in the shop, testing out new products.Drives my sister bonkers when I give her children prototypes."We both had a good laugh over this.We talked family for a while and I found out that he had two sisters, but was closest with his cousin, Maureen, a professional Quidditch agent who had an exceptional talent for chess on the side.

"She's wonderful, really," Sean said."Horribly arrogant when she wins at chess – and she _always_ does —" I had a brief flash of my nightmare, but shook it away quickly."—But a wonderful person.Strong, too.She's always someone I can go to for advice."

He told me a little bit about his sisters, Evelyn and Gwendolyn, and I avoided as many questions about my own life as possible.Unfortunately, he was a lot better at getting information out of me than out of Gatsby and I ended up giving him the _Witch's Digest_ version of my life.

"When I was fifteen, my mother died and my older brother disappeared within a few months… My grandparents – both sets – died when I was very little.For a while, all I had was my father; he was a Muggle.He died of heart problems a few years ago," I said to my now-empty wine glass, not wanting to look up at him.I would get the standard look of pity and then the hollow "I'm so sorry" of someone who's never experienced so much as a sick pet.I finally raised my eyes to meet his.

"I know it hurts," he said softly, placing his hand on top of mine."It doesn't get any easier with time, does it?"I shook my head slowly.He had been there.He had _been_ there.Before I could break the ensuing awkward silence, a loud voice resounded through the Golden Snitch and all attention snapped forward.

"Welcome, all, to the Fiftieth Anniversary Party of Parker Jackalope's Practical Joke Enterprises!" the thin-faced wizard announced.The room exploded in cheers and only sparks from the speaker's wand would calm down the crowd again."As you all know, PJ Enterprises leads the entire wizarding _and_ Muggle worlds as the most successful practical joke suppliers in the United Kingdom!"More cheers broke off and I felt like a traitor to Fred and George as I clapped along."And before we get to the speaker of the evening," the wizard said, with a nod towards Jackalope, who only stared stonily back, "I would like to introduce the company's top investor, Mr. Draco Malfoy."

For a moment, I was too stunned to clap as Draco took the spotlight, but finally was able to hit my hands together a few times before the noise in the place subsided.Draco Malfoy was the creator of Malfosoft, the wizarding version of the Muggle Internet.As quick as the traditional owls were, e-owls were faster.As informative as the gigantic wizarding libraries were, the Malfosoft Wizarding Web offered endless, accurate information in the blink of an eye.

Maybe that's why so many people despised him.

In VWII, the majority of the wizarding world assumed he would follow in his father's footsteps and become one of the most powerful Death Eaters alive.After his mum, Narcissa, was Sponged in early 1997, some say he became a special spy for McGonagall and got a special place of honor in the Order of the Phoenix.Others say he went out for blood on his own terms.Whatever it was, he became one of the most valuable weapons we had in the war.Those that had him pegged for an evildoer ate their words.I don't think they ever forgave him for that.

Through all my reminiscing, Draco gave a speech about success in the wizarding world and the need for commerce to be of top-notch quality and how he was investing in the future.Well-rehearsed, too, I was reluctant to admit.He had a way with oration so that the entire audience was attentive to his every word.Still listening, I let my eyes wander around the crowd until they fell on Ginny Weasley, Draco's current "conquest" as the _Prophet_'s Rita Skeeter disciple Rachel Ratliff said in a most scathing column the previous November.

Ginny was beaming with something that looked like pride.Draco's eyes flicked over to her every few moments and he would look right through her as though she wasn't even there.A flash of hurt flitted through her eyes each time this happened.It was at times like this that I believed the horrible rumors that were circulating about him.I just wished Ginny wouldn't be so damn blind sometimes.

Draco closed his speech and nodded at the crowd as if to say, "I was just the event of the evening; now you may go on with your insignificant lives."The man's pomposity drove me positively bonkers, but far be it from me to make judgments.

Just as Jackalope took the microphone, I started to feel a funny tickling in the back of my throat.In an attempt to ignore it, I finished the end of my fourth (or was it fifth?) glass of wine to subdue it, but soon it became a raw feeling that descended down my windpipe and into my lungs.

"Excuse me for a moment," I rasped to Sean.

"Are you all right?" he asked in a low voice, eyebrows furrowed together in concern.I nodded.

"Ladies room," I lied, forced a smile, and made my way inconspicuously out of the main hall.I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the gradual feeling of my chest closing.I pulled my wand out of my robes and did an Airway Opening Charm on myself, and the discomfort slowly dissipated.I opened my eyes again and took a moment to reorient myself before starting back for the main banquet hall.Before I could step through the curtains, however, I was distracted by the sound of conspiratorial whispering.

"I still think that Jackalope is clean, but just plays hardball, the smarmy git," someone was saying in a low tone.

"No way; there's something fishy about this Jackalope bloke.He's rude to his employers because _he doesn't want them getting close_," another voice replied.

"As much as I hate to say it, Malfoy would never invest in a company if he didn't make sure they were clean.Have you any idea how his social standing would collapse if it got out that he invested in a company that was involved in illegal activities?"

"Maybe this is a one-time only thing, then, trying to shut us down."I stepped back and peered around a corner.Between a pair of potted plants, two men were watching Jackalope give his speech.One I couldn't identify.The other was Gatsby.

"Not a chance.This guy is business-like: wants to eliminate competition."I watched their mannerisms and analyzed their speech carefully, trying to understand.Then, as obvious as the pain of a Hippocampus stepping on my foot, it hit me.

George and Fred.

"What are you two doing here?" I demanded in a low hiss as I stalked up behind the both of them.The two men spun quickly, looking as though their hands were caught in the Canary Cream jar.

"Excuse me, miss, but this is a private matter," the second man – who had never given me a pseudonym – said, squaring his shoulders indignantly.Fred.Thought it was a stranger's face, only Fred himself could only duplicate the expression he wore when in trouble and was trying to get out of it.

"Yeah, I'll bet it's a private matter, Fred.Don't look at me so shocked; the two of you couldn't impersonate your way out of a paper bag._Gatsby_, you really should have come up with a better name.I mean, really, George, you can't possibly pick my favorite literary character, do a terrible impression of him and then expect me not to know it's you!What do you think you were playing at?"The twins, not looking at all alike, stared at me soundlessly.

"How did you know?" Fred finally got out.

"A combination of overhearing your conversation and knowing your mannerisms better than your mother does.Now I'm trying to have a perfectly lovely date – which I _was_ doing until my stupid throat started hurting – and I've got to come back here and tell the two of you that spying on Jackalope not only is _wrong_, but will never hold up in a magical court of law."

"But we're _this_ close, Anya.No one around here likes Jackalope.He's a conceited, horrible person and no one would be surprised if he pulled a copyright scam.Please don't blow our cover," Fred begged, clasping his hands together.

"Your throat hurts?" George repeated, frowning.

"All right," I sighed."I won't say anything.But I do know we can win this thing without the two of you sinking to their level."

"But it's so much fun sinking to pond-scum depths," Fred said with a grin.George nodded.I had to roll my eyes at them and made a mental note to ask Angelina where she got the patience.I also made a note to tell them someday that pond scum floated on _top_ of the water.

"Go back to your date," George said with a nod towards the curtains."I'm sure you're already missed."I couldn't tell exactly what he meant by that last statement but I didn't inquire.

"Don't get caught, you two," I warned and tried my best to give a peeved-Molly-Weasley look.All three of us ended up in giggles.I regained my composure and went back to the banquet hall, Exploding-Snap-faced.I slipped between the curtains and slid back into my seat beside Sean.

He leaned over and asked in a low tone, "Are you all right?"I nodded at him and slid my hand into his under the table, feeling a bit guilty for having lied to him.He looked surprised for a moment, but then closed his hand around mine as we watched Jackalope's speech come to its end.From what I did hear of the speech, he seemed to amuse himself by sending out backhanded compliments to employees that were doing well in the company and snide remarks about those who weren't doing so great.In my expert opinion, the man was a great big prat.

"So may we all raise our glasses to another full year of prosperity for me and for my business," he said, tone full of arrogance, as his hand lifted his wine glass.Before he could make a toast, a loud voice called out from the back of the room.

"Daddy!" it called.The voice was high-pitched, female most definitely.I turned with the rest of the crowd and laid my eyes on a very tipsy witch with long blonde hair and green eyes dull with incoherence.She staggered from side to side, holding a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky in one hand and wiggling the fingers of her free hand at Jackalope.

Jackalope, meanwhile, turned purple and looked as furious as he was embarrassed.The other twelve company officials looked mortified, with the exception of the classy woman, who looked slightly entertained.Finally, he sputtered, "Hunter, what are you doing here?"

No wonder no one knew of the mysterious son of the company's president.Hunter Jackalope was a _woman_.

"Daddy, I just wanted to come to the –hic– party!" she giggled, waving at all the guests."But you forgot to send me an invitation."At this, she began to cry into her free hand dramatically with loud sobs."I'm trying to make you happy, Daddy!I even made sure those mean Weasleys don't hurt your business!"At this, she slumped to the ground and several men rushed to her side.She staggered to her feet and pushed them away as I shot a horrified look at Sean.He was looking back at me and I knew he'd made the Weasley connection.For a moment, I was mortified; he would probably feel terrible for inviting me to the Golden Snitch to celebrate the success of a rival company.I hope my eyes forgave him.

The next few minutes were a blur, passing by with spurts of activity.Jackalope had abandoned his spot in front of the crowd and must've left his dignity behind as well, as he was calling out for stretcher-bearers as he knelt beside his unconscious daughter.He whispered her name frantically, stroking her hair.The arrogant man with the pompous aura disintegrated until all that was left was a worried father.

It wasn't until after Jackalope left the Snitch with his daughter and the stretcher-bearers that the party began to disperse.

"Want to get out of here?" Sean asked, leaning close to my ear.I nodded up at him and allowed him to lead me out.I wasn't quite sure how we got through the crowd and got our cloaks, or how we got out of Diagon Alley, but the next thing I remember is walking down Siegel Court (my street in Hogsmeade), arm-in-arm with Sean.

"What was Hunter saying about… about your friend's business?"I was silent for a moment and he didn't implore further.

"A little while ago, someone – we thought it was Jackalope himself – sent a letter to 3W saying that we had a product that was a copyright infringement with a PJPJE product and we had to take it off the market or…" I paused a moment."Or we would have to risk legal action."I looked up at him and was surprised to see him smirking, his features dimly lit in the pale moon glow.

"And you still went to the party with me?" he said, sounding a bit impressed.

"Well, I didn't exactly know until Shelly told me just before you arrived."

"So you wouldn't've gone with me if you'd have known?"

I shook my head quickly."I would have gone… but I would have had a miserable time because I would know the entire time that it was _you_ behind it all," I teased.

"Ah, my secret!" he cried out into the night air.I giggled and shushed him.We continued down the block, talking and laughing about the evening.

"That Gatsby was a bit of a nutter, wasn't he?" Sean remarked casually as we came up to my front door.He yawned and stretched his arms above his head.

"Quite bonkers, indeed," I replied, unlocking my door with my wand.He smiled warmly at me."I had a wonderful time," I said quietly.

"Me, too," he murmured."I'd like to see you again."

_And again and again_, I added in my head.

"So would I," I said aloud.We were getting closer, very slowly, and the next thing I knew, my lips were pressed against his.His lips were a bit rougher than I'd expected, but they pressed very tenderly against mine.When we parted, I felt a bit dizzy, like a sixteen-year-old who had just sneaked behind the Three Broomsticks to kiss her boyfriend.

I wasn't sure exactly what I said next.Maybe my memory was fuzzy that evening because of the five glasses of wine I'd had, but the parts that were crystal clear were the touch of his hand and the sound of his voice and the moments his eyes met mine.But the next sharp memory I had was of another gentle kiss and him Apparating away with a wave.

Giggling like a first year, I went inside the house, closing the door softly behind me.I didn't have any nightmares that night.

## To be continued…

Reviewer Thanks: **Minzzer** (Ah, the H/H ship is stuck rock hard in your mind, huh? ::shakes head::Gotta open your mind, Minz!Hope your exams went well.), **Coriann** (Don't worry too much about it – it's really tough to figure out, as I haven't given you much information… yet.), **HGW** (I think _everyone's_ favorite part of the story was the Snape imitation – it certainly was the most fun part to write!), ***~*Ginny*~*** (I wish Sean was real, too.The only problem would be that I would take him from Anya!), **las brujas chismosas** (My Spanish isn't too great, but you guys [if this is from more than one person] are… witches?Erm… gossiping witches?My memory's fuzzy.Anyway… would you _really_ want a big spoiler about the romantic pairings?What am I talking about?Of course you do!Well, I'm not telling so nyah.JAnd yeah, I hope to make the reasons and cause of the "event" well explained in this fic.), **VIOLET** (ff.net's been a little buggy lately, but it always pulls through.), **Juliette** (YES!I can't stand Shelly either and can't understand why others can even tolerate her!First, the woman enters the story a whole chapter too early and then she has the Gobstones to FLIRT with George!), **Leap** (Thanks!I was worried she would be stuck the same way for the whole fic without changing.Oy, characters like that annoy me.), **magical*little*me** (I'm not at liberty to say just yet, but you will get more information in TiP8, I believe.), **§phinx **(Sorry!Would it make you feel better if I told you he died heroically?Not that he _did_… Or did he?::evil wink::), **Julia McGonagall** (Thank you!::turns a bit pink:: ), **Moriel** (Thank you so much for your encouragement!You have NO idea how blocked I was on this chapter… reviewers like you make it worth the extra head pounding!By the way, it _was_ HP_Paradise.), **Katie D**. (::turns rather pink::Thanks so much!You totally made my day!And yes, the writer's block is doing much better.JAnd no, it's not bad to think that.) **Queen C** (Thanks!Sean'll be glad to hear you think he's gorgeous.), **Vicki Granger** (Ah, a reviewer of few words… thanks nonetheless!) **Gryffindor** (Yep, I got her permission before I even started writing the story.And yes, Sean _seems_ perfect, doesn't he? ::cackles::), **Rogstar** (Excuse me while I have a JKRish moment, but "Well spotted!"Okay, moment over, but I must say you are quite the sharp-eyed observer.) and **Corinne Cassandra** (Wow… I don't believe I've ever had anyone write a review like that for anything I've ever written… "Deepest depths multiplied by infinity" Thank you.).On-list or in private mail, these four lovely people took time to comment on Chapter 3: **Simon **(H/H forever!Harry/Hedwig, that is.),** Ebony **(My ever-so-patient Mum… well, most of the time. J),** Brigid **(Did you know your name is the same as a goddess?And no, that's not a pick-up line… it's the truth!),** Pippin** (The master – mistress, really – of filking!),and** K** (Master Malfoy is _quite_ taken with you…)**.**They listened to my babbling, too!I hope everyone liked this chapter.It was a bugger to write!

~*~*JanaBelle AKA George Weasley's Girlfriend*~*~

Iguana: The Other Green Meat

   [1]: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HP_Paradise



	5. Drink With Me

E for Author: George Weasley's Girlfriend

**A/N:** See previous chapters.Huge thanks to my betas: Ebony, John (aka Crazy Ivan), Lady Christina, Virgo, JM Robin and Pippin.An extra super special thanks to Ebony, who's letting me write this.Remember to check out the [HP_Paradise][1] list if you want to discuss or read the incoming chapters before (or after!) they're posted to ff.net.This is dedicated to Sue, who gave me a great line to use, Virgo, who jump started me a zillion times and Sue-the-fish, who did her best to break me through writer's block and did a special guest-beta for this chapter. Thanks everyone!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~****

**Not Quite Paradise**__

_"Drink with me   
To days gone by.  
Can it be  
You fear to die?  
Will the world remember you  
When you fall?  
Could it be your death  
Means nothing at all?  
Is your life just one more lie?"_

_ _
    
    _---Grantaire**, **_Drink With Me_, "Les Miserables"_

Chapter Five Drink With Me 

Over the next few weeks, Sean and I owled back and forth.Weird work schedules (Jackalope was crueler than ever now that everyone at the company knew his daughter's problem.) prevented us from seeing each other as often as we would have liked, but we were able to meet for the occasional lunch.I learned more about him, but dodged enough questions about myself that he finally took the hint that Anya Parker wasn't one of my favorite subjects.

Something was amiss about him, though.It was almost as though he was trying terribly hard to impress me and he was never the one to decide where to eat."Up to the lady," he would say with a smile.It was just a bit unnerving, but I suppose he could have worse traits.

My nightmares worsened for a while, but never changed.Soon, I found that a glass of wine before bed would stave off my demons for a while.Over time, it was taking a bit more wine each night to take the night terrors out of my sleeping pattern, but what was a little hangover in the morning in return for a good night's sleep?

Shelly, of course, needed every last detail of the evening at the Golden Snitch.I told her everything except George and Fred's espionage mission.She was relieved with the Hunter revelation and I told her we'd gotten a formal but stiff apology letter from PJPJE.George had gotten it framed and hung it in the shop as a joke.She looked annoyed when I mentioned Draco's speech and his demeanor towards Ginny, but not surprised.

"That man is an absolute _prat_.Ever since the war, he's been positively – well, so full of himself!Then Malfosoft," Shelly added, rolling her eyes as we took a seat in Florean Fortescue's (They'd recently opened another shop in Hogsmeade and expanded to carry all sorts of magical candy.)."As if the man couldn't _get_ any richer.I heard he donated three million Galleons – pocket change to him, really – to a _computer literacy charity_.Can you possibly think of a colder cause?"

I couldn't, but my defend-the-absent reaction sprang up involuntarily and I said, "I read that rumor, too, in Rachel Ratliffe's column.Angelina – Fred's wife, you know –" (I thought I saw something pass through her eyes, but as soon as I was aware of it, it was gone) "I know she told me once that Rachel's the next generation Rita Skeeter.And you _know_ what I think of _that_ woman."

During our sixth year at Hogwarts, Rita Skeeter published several articles discrediting Harry Potter, using everything from his mental health to his rumored love life with Hermione Granger.The Harry Potter books, published by that awful Rowling woman, reprinted several of them.What the books failed to include were the articles on the other Hogwarts students and staff.Unfortunately, I was the target of one such article.According to an "inside source" (Draco Malfoy himself, no doubt), I was ordering Fluffy to attack other students; rather than the truth, which was calming him down and leading him back to Hagrid.

Needless to say, the woman was not my favorite person and Skeeter's biggest fan isn't too high on the list either.

"Okay, maybe you're right, but I still don't like that Malfoy…" Shelly trailed off before completely finishing her thought.Her eyes were fixated on something behind me and I turned to see a large group of people entering Florean's, including George and Fred, laughing loudly about something.George waved at me with a huge grin and I smiled back.

When I turned back around, Shelly was taking our ice cream sundaes out of the waiter's hand and placing them before us.My friend had a morose look on her face as she swirled her spoon in the vanilla ice cream before her, head bowed so I couldn't see her face.

"See someone you know?" I asked casually, dipping a spoon into my knickerbocker glory.

"Something like that…" she said and didn't meet my eyes.I frowned, worried.Shelly was the paradigm of a bubbly, outgoing person with no dark secrets and no sad memories.Though money had been tight with her family when she was young, just as it was with the Weasleys, her parents had done everything they could to keep her childhood as joyful as possible.I'd never known her to be depressed and on the odd occasion she was upset, a few jokes and some advice would cheer her up.

"I can read you like a book, Shelly," I said, leaning across the table.She still refused to meet my eyes."Come on, there's something you're hiding from me.I don't keep any secrets from you…" She continued to ignore me, pushing her spoon around the dish aimlessly, face hidden.I sat back in my seat, half-worried about her and half-angry about her lack of trust in confiding in me."Fine," I murmured into my ice cream and lifted a spoonful to my mouth.We ate our ice cream in tense silence, with me wishing she would just say something – anything – to break it.

"Fancy running into you here," a voice said from behind me.George and Fred stepped up on either side of the table and made themselves comfortable with assumed invitation.I forced a smile at the two of them and noticed that Shelly had stiffened considerably and ducked her head even lower."We're just here for a quick minute to grab some lunch," George explained.

I eyed the large container in his hands labeled "Chocolate Covered Mangoes" (The bloke had a weird diet) and arched an eyebrow.

"I see you're going for a healthy, well-balanced lunch," I quipped.George shrugged with a "What can I say?" sort of smile and Fred laughed, though he really had no place to do so because of the box of Fizzing Whizbees in his possession.Shelly's head dipped even lower and she had ceased all movement.I kicked her beneath the table as George bit into his first mango.She sat up straight, eyes wide and looked at me with a pleading sort of desperation.She mouthed something to me, but I couldn't tell what she wanted me to do.

At that moment, Fred turned his head to see her.As their eyes met, his face changed slowly.The next expression to grace his features I would never be able to quite describe.The closest thing I could think of would be shame with perhaps a twinge of embarrassment.

"Hello," Fred said quietly.

"Hi," she whispered in a choked voice.George's eyes found a spot on the wall and remained there.

I had the distinct feeling that everyone at the table knew something and I was the only one being left out.I clenched my fists beneath the table and counted silently to ten.This always happened, with me being the one not knowing but far too polite to ask.Finally, Fred cleared his throat and stood, shifting his package under his arm.

"Catch you back at 3W," he said, looking over my head to George.His twin nodded and Fred left, watching his feet as he walked out the door.I looked between George and Shelly, who were both neatly avoiding my eyes.They both knew and neither of them trusted me enough to tell me what secret was being passed around.

"Fine," I said quietly."Just thought you guys might be able to trust me."George's head snapped up at this and he began to shake his head."No," I said before he could get a word out. "I understand perfectly.No one wants naive little Anya to know anything."I pushed my knickerbocker glory away from me and stood up angrily.

"Anya, wait," Shelly said, just as I began to turn away.I froze, not turning back to her, but not walking out either."I'll tell you everything."My shoulders slumped; I definitely had some sort of complex that prevented me from staying angry with someone for too long.I looked over my shoulder at Shelly."Please."Reluctantly, I returned to my seat at the table at the same time George stood to leave.

"Girl talk," he said, by way of excuse."Yuck."He nodded and bade goodbye to the two of us, then left.I pulled my ice cream back towards me, and then looked up at Shelly.

"Do… do you promise not to hate me?"At this point, Shelly's tone and behavior was seriously frightening me.I slid my hand across the table and wrapped it around hers in that comforting way George did to me when I was upset."A long time ago… over a year now…" She paused and lifted her frame, throwing her shoulders back and raising her chin.I could see the confidence return to her features.She had a look of determination in her eyes as she continued speaking."Fred and I had… a night… together."

I blinked for a few moments, not quite understandingSuddenly, my eyes widened.Fred and Angelina had been quite unstable at times, but I could tell by the way they looked at each other when the other wasn't watching that their love ran deep and wasn't ever in question.Their stubbornness and tempers, however, were matched a bit too well.I never thought either of them would ever betray the other.

"How did it happen?" I murmured.Her face relaxed at this, probably because I didn't tell her straight out that what she had done was wrong.

"It was a long time ago," she repeated."Before Angelina was pregnant.They had a bunch of rough spots… really close together.She said something awful to him… told him she didn't love him or something like that.He went out drinking at the Leaky Cauldron.I guess he couldn't deal with her anymore that night."She took a deep breath and began to speak again in a stronger voice."I saw him, then, from across the room.You know I fancied him at Hogwarts."I nodded, remembering the giggles and passed notes during Charms about the newest males that had fallen into our crosshairs.Shelly, much to my surprise, never really went out of her way to get to know Fred, but gushed about him in countless notes."So I went up to him… we got to talking… Anya, you wouldn't believe how drunk he was.I took advantage of him.I… I seduced him.We got a room above the Leaky Cauldron…" She was crying now, very softly, and I tightened my hand around hers.

"Then what?" I whispered.She laughed through her tears and then withdrew her hand from mine to wipe them from her face.

"Oh, Anya, you weren't kidding when you said you were naïve.What do _you_ think happened, love?"I offered a small smile.

"Well, I know what happened… but after that?What did he say?Did you two talk about it?"Shelly shook her head as she blew her nose into her napkin and wiped the final tears from her cheeks.

"He was gone before I woke up," she sniffled.I was torn between being disapproving of her behavior and sympathy for her plight.She shouldn't have given into temptation.A woman should have more willpower.But Fred should have cleaned up his mistake instead of leaving her to wonder what had really happened."I saw him with his wife in Diagon Alley the next week.He was holding her hand… then, they kissed."These words didn't seem to make her weaker and more desolate.Instead, they seemed to strengthen her and, amazingly enough, her features betrayed no evidence that she had been crying.

"Did you love him?" I blurted out before I could run my comments through the tact-o-meter and weed out stupid comments like the one I'd just uttered.She looked at me with a sad sort of smile.

"Dunno.But I don't think so.He and Angelina are the perfect pair.They were meant to be.I suppose… I suppose I was just frustrated that he didn't love me.You and I both know how it was at Hogwarts."What Katie Bell was to Gryffindor, Shelly Walters was to Hufflepuff."I look back at those days and see how foolish we were as children."She shook her head."I don't think I loved him.And I certainly don't love him now.It just… hurts a lot.I'm actually rather relieved that I don't.It must be horrible to watch someone you love love someone else."

"It doesn't make you a bad person, you know.If you did love him, I mean.It's not wrong to feel an emotion."I shrugged."You can't help it."

"I hate to disappoint you," Shelly chuckled, "But I don't spend my days and nights dreaming of him.It just smarted a bit to see him after all this time."She drew in a deep breath and pulled her wits about her.The Shelly I knew and loved returned and I was overjoyed at her reappearance."Melodrama worthy of _As The Cauldron Turns,_ no?" she joked, quoting a popular wizarding soap opera.We laughed ourselves silly over this, the final tinges of tension draining away."Now, please, I'd rather not talk about me anymore.Let us speak of your whirlwind romance with a certain Quidditch player…"

My spoon became quite interested in my ice cream as I blushed.Whirlwind, this romance was indeed not.I adored Sean, I really did, but at times it seemed as though he didn't have a mind of his own.When choosing where to go, he would let me pick every time.Granted, he did order his own meal, so perhaps I was just being paranoid.

"We've got a date this Saturday.Picnic in Primavera Park."

"A picnic!How romantic!Is that the park with Faeries' Mirror Lake where it's always spring?" Shelly asked excitedly, ice cream forgotten.I nodded."Shall I book a church for next Wednesday?Oh, and what's your ring size?" Shelly asked innocently, not able to completely hide the wicked grin touching her lips.I groaned.I definitely had my Shelly back.

***

At ten after noon that Saturday, I Apparated in front of 6123 Cauldron Lane and knocked on the door.Sean told me to be there at noon, but stupid cat had done almost everything in his power to delay me.I often wondered why I kept the feline around though it gave me nothing but hassle.But when it came to kicking out that sad-green-eyed little fluff ball, I couldn't bring myself to do it.I knocked again, a little impatient.

"Come in!" I heard Sean call faintly."It's open."I creaked open the door and stepped inside the warm house.The front entryway was neat and tidy, hardly the appearance of a typical bachelor pad.I closed the door gently behind me as Sean came through an archway off to my left.He grinned broadly, blue eyes warm.

"Who is it, love?" a female voice called from the other room.Involuntarily, my eyebrows narrowed with suspicion.He _had_ seemed too perfect.

"Am I interrupting something?" I asked, careful to keep an edge out of my voice.Sean looked guilty beyond words for a moment, then took my hand and pulled me towards him.

"A chess match with my cousin, but I was losing anyway.Would you like to meet her?" he asked, looking down at me with a small smile.I nodded, fighting down a tinge of remorse for jumping to conclusions.He smiled again and pulled me into the sitting room behind him.

Standing beside the chessboard in his sitting room was a beautiful witch with long, dark hair and brown eyes the color of mahogany wood.Her skin, a pale olive, combined with her other features convinced me that this woman had some sort of gypsy roots in her family tree.Her eyes were large and friendly, and her full lips curved in an amicable smile.When she saw me, the smile faded for a moment, but then returned quickly, warmer than ever.

"Mo, this is Anya Parker.Anya, this is my famous cousin, Maureen Ludlam," Sean announced proudly.I dropped his hand to shake hers (She had quite the firm grip). Her smile widened.

"You can call me Mo… no one calls me Maureen.And I am not famous," she added, reaching out to smack Sean's shoulder, but he jumped out of the way just in time.

"She'll never admit it," Sean said, circling around me to stand at my side, "but I'm the cousin of the world's greatest chess player."She rolled her eyes at him as she sat back down at the chessboard.I remembered his comment at the party about Mo being arrogant when she won at chess, but the witch before me seemed awfully humble."Oh, don't you look at me like that," he teased her.

"Ignore him," Mo said in a low voice as she gestured for Sean to sit across from her."I've not yet won the All-Wizarding Chess Tournament or even gotten to the finals. I'm hardly famous."

"Yet," Sean teased, then turned to me."Would you mind if Mo and I finished our chess game?" he asked.I shook my head.

"No, I'd love to watch.My friend's brother – Ron Weasley – is quite the chess player himself, when he's not on the Quidditch pitch," I told Mo as Sean went into the kitchen to get me a chair.

"Ron Weasley, hmm?Sounds familiar," Mo said absently as she studied the chessboard. My eyes widened a bit at this, as most witches in my generation would have given their entire Gringotts account to have five minute alone with the Red Weasel."Big shot Quidditch Seeker, isn't he?"I tried to hide a smile, never having met someone so unimpressed with Ron.She looked up at me and I nodded, just as Sean came back into the sitting room with a chair.

Mo won easily, with almost no losses.

"Dear cousin, you must work on your game," Mo teased as they put away the board and pieces."Maybe next time you'll capture one of my pawns," she winked as she tucked her satchel of pieces into her robes."Well, I'll leave you two lovebirds be for now.It was a pleasure meeting you, Anya."After shaking my hand again, and then giving Sean a firm hug and a kiss on the cheek, she left.

"Would you like something to drink?" Sean asked as he raised himself up onto his toes to put the chessboard on the top shelf of his closet.Giving in, he used his wand to levitate it upwards and slide it easily on top of the shelf.

"Sure," I replied, studying the pictures on his mantelpiece.

"Is wine all right?I know it's a bit early, but my mother always said…"

"… It has to be after five somewhere in the world," I finished with a laugh."Sure, a glass of wine would be great."He grinned and disappeared into the kitchen again.I looked at the pictures on the mantel and smiled at the shot of Sean holding Mo upside down, both of their faces alive with laughter.The next shot was of an older woman who resembled my mother just a little bit, but I suppose all mothers seem to have a vague resemblance.The woman was wearing proper dress robes and had just the slightest hint of a smile on her thin lips.I moved my eyes to the next shot, but I felt a hand come down on my shoulder suddenly.I spun around quickly and found myself looking up at Sean.

"Hi," I said breathlessly.He smiled and handed me my wine glass.It struck me just then that he was rather tall, not exactly dark, but quite handsome indeed._Nice work, Shelly_, I said silently, as he gestured for me to sit on the couch.I tucked my feet under myself like I always sat and watched as he knelt by the fireplace with his wand, poked a few logs, and started a fire."Cheater," I smirked as I took a sip of wine.He sat beside me and set the wine down on his coffee table.

"Cheater?" he asked, confused.

"Well, I'm Muggle-born," I started reluctantly. "Sometimes I think magic is an easy way out of problems…I envy Muggles sometimes.They've got a higher average kinetic intelligence.They haven't got the same spells and easy solutions we do and have to think on a higher level.Magic is almost like cheating."

"I never thought of it that way…" he said thoughtfully, turning more to face me."What was it like growing up with a Muggle father?Was magic practiced openly in your home?"I nodded and reluctantly told him some of my home life.It had always been a bit painful to talk about it with anyone but George or Shelly, but as I was getting more comfortable around Sean, it was a bit easier.I also noticed that we were sitting a lot closer towards the end of the conversation than we were in the beginning.

And I wasn't entirely uncomfortable with that.

Soon, our knees were touching softly and Sean's arm was resting gently on the couch behind me.His face was very close to mine as he spoke and his voice was deep and rough.Suddenly, his fingertips were touching my jaw very lightly as I spoke.As his fingertips moved slowly over my lips, I fell silent, far too caught up in the moment to care what I was saying.

"Sean…" I breathed softly, just before his lips pressed to mine urgently.I let out a soft mmph of surprise, but did nothing else to protest.I felt his arms wrap themselves securely around my waist and my arms found their way slowly around his neck.The way he kissed me seemed so… confident, so sure, as though we'd kissed like this thousands of times before and he knew exactly what he was doing.My heart was beating rapidly and I could feel his shoulder blades moving beneath my fingers.He was pushing me backwards very slightly and I felt his hands—

"I can't do this," Sean gasped suddenly, breaking away from my lips and turning his face away.I looked up at him, breathing heavily, dizzy from both the kiss and the shock of him pulling away.

"What… what do you mean?" I asked with a frown.The look in his crystalline eyes as he turned and gazed down at me made me want to burst into tears.He gave the impression of harboring some sort of terrible grief behind his eyes."I… I must've… must've done something wrong."I dropped my head shamefully and moved to stand, terribly humiliated."I'm sorry."He caught my arm and turned me to face him before I could get to my feet.

I felt him put a finger under my chin and force me to look up at him.

"You did nothing wrong," he whispered."It wasn't you."

"What is it then?Tell me what's wrong."

"I can't do this to her," he muttered, shaking his head."I promised myself I wouldn't… and I can't."For one crazy moment, I thought he was talking about Mo, but that was probably the wine messing with my thoughts.

"Who?" I whispered. It was desperately important for me to know what was going on.

"My wife," he murmured softly.Never before in my life had I ever struck someone in the heat of anger, but at that moment, I was so sick of being lied to, so embarrassed at being taken advantage of and so tired of having things kept from me that I lashed out at Sean.

I slapped him soundly across the face.His head turned sharply to one side with the slap and his eyes closed.

"I am so sorry," I gasped, instantly shameful.It was absolutely ridiculous, but all I could think about was that my mum and dad would have been so disappointed in my behavior.Not that I felt he wasn't a complete and total git, but violence was out of the question.I reached my hand up to touch his cheek gently, but he shook his head and waved my hand away.

"Don't be sorry; I deserved that.I'm going to tell you everything."He stood up and left the room for a moment.I waited awkwardly, head spinning a mile a minute.What more was there to tell?I'd just been some naive fling who'd nearly been swept off her feet by a handsome Quidditch player.I was only a distraction to him.He reentered the room with a thick photo album bound with string and sat beside me again, only this time not as close.He untied the string with trembling fingers and the pages splayed open on his lap.

The inside of the front cover had an inscription:

To my favorite cousin in the whole wide world-

This is wishing you best of luck in your marriage and a place to hold the memories of those times.

-Mo

Mo's handwriting was neat and precise, but still had a unique style.On the opposite page was a picture of Sean in formal marriage dress robes and a broad smile.His arm was hooked through the arm of the woman beside him who looked exactly like… me.

I took the album from him slowly and rested it in my own lap.Leaning forwards slightly, I squinted and realized that the likeness wasn't quite as perfect as it had seemed at first glance, but the resemblance was still striking.Her hair was shorter than mine, and wavy.Her eyes were a light honey brown while mine were very dark.Her cheekbones were higher and she was an awful lot prettier than me.She had her head tilted slightly towards Sean and the smile on her face told me that he was the only one in her eyes.

"How could you do this to her?" I whispered, not daring to allow myself to speak louder for I might've shouted at him until I became hoarse.

"I always promised myself I wouldn't, Anya; you've got believe me.She and I talked about it once and she said she wanted me to be happy, to move on, if anything ever happened to her…"

"Happened to her…?" I repeated, confused.He frowned back, just as confused, then his eyes lit with understanding.

"Oh, no… you thought…?I may not be the greatest person on the planet – not that I haven't tried to convince you otherwise – but I could never do that.Never."I avoided his eyes, terribly embarrassed yet again, but with the way he had spoken, it was easy to think this Mrs. Ludlam was still alive.

"What happened?" I asked softly, as he took the album gently from my hands.

"She disappeared," he replied after a moment of silence."Almost two years ago.I came home from work and… and she was just gone.There was some… some…" He stopped speaking here and composed himself."There was blood on the doorknob."I gasped sharply and fought back tears.He seemed to be doing the same as he paged slowly through the album, caught up in his own world.After his wife's disappearance (especially with so little hope at the presence of foul play), he must've been so destroyed to promise himself not to be with anyone else.But when he saw me, a near copy of his wife…That's what he had meant about convincing me he was a great person.

"You… you changed yourself so I would fall in love with you," I said.It was not a question, just a simple statement of fact.He nodded solemnly."Why?"

"The picture doesn't show it," he began quietly, "but you and my Joey – short for Josephine, but no one ever called her that – look so alike.I wanted her back so badly… I'll always miss how she loved me, more than anything else in the world.I had this stupid deranged idea that if I changed myself – made myself perfect – made you _fall in love_ with me, it would be the same… God, Anya, I'm so sorry."To see him sitting before me with tears in his eyes and the most broken expression with just the slightest red mark on his face from where I had struck him, filled me with such an awful sadness that it made my stomach ache.

"It was wrong to do," I said haltingly, "but I can understand why.And I would understand if you didn't want to continue seeing me."Each time he looked at me must have been a twist in his heart.

"I do want to keep seeing you," he said.He paused and shook his head slightly, closing the album."But not like this… you're a wonderful person, Anya, but I can't ask you to give your heart to me if I can't give mine to you.Wherever Joey is, that's where my heart is.And if she's dead… well, then a little piece of me died with her, too."He took a deep breath and swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand."But I don't want to lose our friendship."I nodded and he closed his eyes slowly.It hurt, both my heart and my pride, but Sean was right; it couldn't keep going on like this.I sat up straight and leaned towards him.

Joey had been taller than me, and judging by her features, she had a little Italian in her.Somehow, her face and the way she stood in the photo made me think she was more of the soft-spoken type.

"I love you, Sean," I whispered in his ear in what I hoped sounded like Joey.He started a little and tears began to flow out from underneath his eyelids."I've always loved you."

"I miss you so much, Joey," he choked out.I pressed my lips very softly against his, and then stood, heading for the door.I paused in the doorway and looked back at him.His eyes were still closed."Thank you," he murmured.Without another word, I left.

***

I went about work on Monday as usual, not overly enthusiastic, but not showing too blatantly that I was still a bit upset.It should have been unfair for me to be upset, compared to the hellish years Sean had to endure, but I thought I was still entitled to a few days of feeling sorry for myself.Fred noticed I was a bit quieter than usual, but didn't inquire.Consequently, it was a quiet morning and there was an unhealthy spike in the amount of mundane tasks accomplished by myself.

George came in a little past noon, mumbling something about crazy next-door neighbors keeping him up half the night with their damn music and caught my frown straight away.

"What's wrong, Anya?" he asked, following me into the back room with a case of Flirting Flounders in his arms.I shook my head as I lifted a box out of the crate and placed it gently onto the shelf."Come on, you know you can tell me anything. I hate seeing you upset.You can't possibly still be angry with me because of the Jackalope thing, can you?"I shook my head again, stocking a few more boxes of Flirting Flounders.I hated it when George got that pleading tone in his voice, because it meant _he_ was going to get upset if I didn't tell him."Did your date with Sean go bad?"I stopped in midshelf and dropped my chin.I turned slowly to meet his eyes and in that moment, he knew."That bastard broke your heart, didn't he?"

"Sorta," I said quietly.He put the case of Flirting Flounders on the ground, stepped over the box and wrapped me in a tight hug."I'm okay, really, George," I protested weakly, returning the hug.He didn't release me, but that was okay, as I suspected all I really needed was a big hug from George and everything would be fine.

"Are you sure?" he asked, releasing me slightly.I nodded."I'll kill him if you'd like," he said a bit too seriously.I laughed nervously and shook my head.

"No, that's quite all right.It was bound to happen sooner or later."

"Not even a little bit?" he asked with a frown, holding his thumb and forefinger half an inch apart.I shook my head at him again and he brushed a few locks of hair out of my face tenderly."All right then.Want to take the rest of the day off and go home and feels sorry for yourself?Always works for me."Here, I smirked.For such a strong-willed man, George loved playing martyr and always pegged it as part of his charm."Things are slow… I'll come by later with ice cream and you can tell me all about it."I grinned and gave him another hug.I had to love some of his more feminine qualities (Hey, he was bisexual and used this to his advantage) like his instinctive tendency to take care of me.

"I think I just might take you up on that offer," I smiled. It wasn't that I could use another evening of feeling pitiful, but my house could use a good cleaning and I wanted to stop by Shelly's.Besides, I was out of ice cream.

***

Long after George had left with the last of the ice cream (greedy bastard), I was left with messy house that would make my mother roll over in her grave.Getting out my wand and rolling up my sleeves, I set to work.One would think that magic makes house-cleaning a whole lot easier.

It doesn't.

There's absolutely _no_ spell in the world that will get chocolate ice cream out of the rug and I learned that quick enough.So after thirty different spells, I finally stomped into my kitchen, took a section of leaf off the agave plant I keep in my kitchen (dead useful, the plant is) and scrubbed the rug with the leaf where George had spilled ice cream.Not a spot was on the carpet when I was done.

Tossing the leaf into the waste container, I returned to the living room, murmuring "_Accio_" as I pointed my wand at various items around the cluttered area.

Suddenly, a heavy object hit my hand.As I yelped and shook off the sharp pain, the object fell to the carpet.It was a photo album.It was just my awful luck that the album had flipped open to a smiling picture of George and Katie.This brought a frown to my face.Would her ghost always haunt me?

I sank to the floor, but somehow couldn't bring myself to close the album.I folded my feet beneath me and began to remember…

_"The worst thing in the world is a public marriage proposal," George said, pacing the floor of the 3W stockroom as he spoke."It's a dangerous social trend!Like pet rocks... big hair... the Spice Girls…?"_

_ _

_I laughed."What's so wrong with announcing to the world your love for a special lady?"_

_ _

_"What's right with it?You know, this all began with those corny announcements at the Quidditch pro games at halftime: "Katerina, won't you marry me? Love, Ivan"... and then the oh-so-astonished ladylove replies "Yes"!This, too, is announced later in the game, usually just as the Snitch is caught.It's... it's....?"_

_ _

_"Cute," I finished for him with a smirk. He shook his head as he leaned against a shelf._

_ _

_"Cute, you say?Not on your life!Perhaps corny, but never cute!And vain... isn't such a moment supposed to be private?Anyone can see where encouraging such cutesy sops to vanity will lead -- broadcasting the couple's wedding night on the WWN!"He paused here with a look that made me think perhaps it would pull in some good ratings._

_ _

_I giggled uncontrollably."So you're not going to propose to Katie in the middle of the Quidditch World cup, are you?"_

_ _

_"Of course not!With the way things are going, every Quidditch game and Daily Prophet advertisement page will be broadcasting yet another tacky marriage proposal."_

_ _

_"A girl would love for her man to be so in love that he doesn't care about embarrassment."I shoved him in the arm for no real good reason, and passed him to a ladder._

_ _

_"What's next?"George asked, shaking his head and continuing to pace as I climbed the ladder and pulled a box from an upper shelf."Surprise scoreboard-delivered divorce announcements?"_

_ _

_I was silent for a moment.Then, "That's assuming you and Katie will someday get divorced.I find that difficult to believe."He raised his eyebrows as he took the box from me and reached a hand up to help me down from the ladder._

_ _

_"Why is that?The divorce statistics in the wizarding world are rather outrageous actually."_

_ _

_"Well, when you make a decision," I said, hopping down from the last step and taking the box back, "You usually know what you're getting into.You may be your brother's brother, but you have more restraint and introspection than he does.You don't look before you leap sometimes, but not for important things like who you're going to spend the rest of your life with."He gave me a small smile._

_ _

_"So do you think she'll say yes?"_

_ _

He would never find out.Katie died three weeks after that conversation, in a Sponging.It was the same accident that took Angelina's broomstick abilities from her.George had been hit hard with her death because he had been so sure of figuring himself out.He wanted to spend his life with Katie, but that destiny was ripped away with one warm spring afternoon in 1998.He had to start all over again with finding himself.

I stood up with a sigh, closing the photo album.With gentle hands, I put the album away and temporarily silenced her ghost.
    
    ***
    
     

Late three evenings later (so it took me a while to clean the house), I Apparated in front of Shelly's door, feeling the biting cold from the wind around me.Pulling my cloak tighter, I knocked.Tapping my feet to stay warm, I waited impatiently.Friends don't let friends freeze their arses off, right?I knocked again, harder.After a few minutes with no reply, I groaned, dug my wand out of my robes and opened the door with a simple "_Alohomora_."

The door swung open in front of me slowly, like in one of those awful horror movies.I stepped inside to a burst of warm air and closed the door behind me.It was like stepping into a sauna.Shelly had always been very meticulous about the temperature of her home since her family had been poor when she was younger.Freezing cold winters and sweltering hot summers had taught her well.

"Shelly?" I called, hanging my cloak on a snoring coat rack.It startled awake when I put my cloak on one of its prongs and muttered something sleepily about an attractive bookshelf named Lenore before dozing off again."Shelly, are you home?I really need to talk to you.Sean and I… well, there's no more—" I broke off when I saw a dark stain puddling on the floor between the carpet of the living room and the tile of the kitchen.

My blood froze in my veins and I got this horrible feeling of dread that something was wrong.Shelly was the tidiest person I had ever met in my life; leaving a stain to sit on brand new carpet was definitely not her style.Against my own will, my feet took me forward and I could see farther into the kitchen.

A goblet lay dented in the dark puddle of blue liquid… farther still… fingertips curled limply around the stem.I was at the point of no return when I saw the fingers were attached to a hand attached to an arm that disappeared under a bundle of robes.I felt a sick rising in my stomach and I saw a pair of feet sticking out from under the pile of robes.

"Oh, God…" I put a hand over my middle and recoiled in horror."Oh, God…" Something inside me had to know.My body working against my better judgment, I staggered towards the bundle in the kitchen.I fell to my knees just next to the form and turned it over.

Rochelle Delilah Walters, my best friend and confidante since the age of thirteen, looked up at me, glassy blue eyes wide and lifeless.Her nose was slightly red and she had a crease in her brow.Her lips were parted slightly and a dribble of the blue liquid clung to them.She had the frozen expression of one who had just woken up from a screaming nightmare.

"Shelly… Shelly, wake up!" I demanded hoarsely.No, not my best friend… She was alive; she had to be.I shook her roughly and a small piece of paper fluttered out of her opposite hand.I glanced up at it absently before withdrawing my wand and muttering spells to wake her up.I didn't even notice when the tears had started rolling down my cheeks."Shelly, wake up, damn it!" I shouted.

I could see wasn't going to be able to wake her up on my own, so I summoned stretcher-bearers in between sobs.I continued to shake her and whisper spells, but she must have been very sleepy because she wasn't answering me.When the stretcher-bearers arrived, I was a complete wreck.

The smallest of the lot, a tiny gnome who introduced himself as Gobbo, pushed me off to the side and told me to stay back while they worked.I wrung my hands nervously.Certainly the medignomes would be able to wake her up.Shelly was going to be furious when she saw what her drink had done to the rug.I would help her clean it up and then we would talk about Sean.She'd be upset about the relationship ending, but she would already be on the lookout for another bloke to fix me up with.Bless her heart, she watched out for me like my mum had.Not exactly the same, but it was a nice surrogate.

Suddenly, a warm sort of denial settled over me.Of course she was all right.I couldn't remember a single time she was ever sick for more than seventy-two hours.She was just a little sleepy; that was all.

After what seemed like an eternity, Gobbo took me aside and said that they had done everything they could, but she was gone long before they arrived.

"That's nonsense," I told him with a shaky voice."Shelly isn't dead.She's just… she's not…" I put my hand over my mouth and trembled.Wrapping my arms around myself, I began crying again, if only out of sheer confusion.For the next ten minutes, I heard faint popping noises around me and I was aware of strangers entering Shelly's home.I remember telling a red-haired woman to wipe her feet before entering because Shelly hated messes.

A woman, looking just a hair short of thirty, came over to me and asked my name.She was wearing dark black robes with a Ministry of Magic badge fastened to the left side.The letters MME were stitched across the badge.I tried to think of what the letters stood for, but drew a blank.

"Anya Parker," I said haltingly.Her unfriendly cool hazel eyes looked me over, studying me.I didn't like the way she was peering at me like I was some sort of zoo exhibit.She seemed to be ignoring the strands of honey colored hair that were falling in her face.

"What is your relationship to the deceased?" she asked me.At the same time as her question, she reached into her robes and took out a scrap of parchment and an eagle quill.

"Deceased?" I repeated slowly, wondering in the back of my mind why so many people were in Shelly's house and what was underneath the white sheet in the kitchen.The woman stepped in front of me to block my view into the kitchen.She reached into her robes and withdrew another scrap of parchment, this one with ragged edges and wilting corners.It was soaked with some sort of blue liquid.

"A Miss Michelle Walters according to the suicide note," she said.I trembled.Something wasn't right about the way she'd said Shelly's name, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"She's my best friend.She and George Weasley are my best friends," I said quietly."She's not dead and she certainly didn't commit suicide."

"Are you saying you killed her?" she asked slowly, as she moved her hand subtly to the pocket of her robes and tensed her fingers.Her tone of voice scared me.

"No, I'm saying SHE'S NOT DEAD!"My shouts had elicited sympathetic looks and wide-eyes from what looked to be other Ministry officials around the sheet-covered lump in the kitchen.I glared at the woman in front of me as she turned away to mutter something to another wizard, who nodded.

"Ma'am, maybe you ought to just sit down for a little while and we'll get things straightened out then?"I nodded numbly, rather worried that Shelly would arrive soon and see all these strangers in her house.Miss MME led me to the couch and sat me at the end.She sat across from me and introduced herself as Ashlie Kauffman, a magical medical examiner from the Ministry, and said she had been summed by medignomes to the scene.I nodded numbly as she asked me questions about Shelly like if she was seeing anyone or if she had any enemies.

"Shelly is a nice girl," I said."She can be a little overwhelming sometimes, but she would never hurt anyone."I nodded and waited for her to ask another question.

"I think you're in shock, Miss Parker.Do you understand that Miss Walters has passed away?" she asked.I could finally see some compassion in her eyes, but I couldn't understand why it was there.Shelly was just fine.Kauffman was the deranged one here.

"She's not dead," I said in a little voice, but my words came out in a tremble.I wrapped my arms around myself, needing to be held and comforted, and my eyes threatened to release tears.I shivered, becoming aware of the low temperature of the house once again.Funny how it'd been really warm earlier.My eyes roved over the worn furniture and antique lamps, remembering the times we had gone to Muggle garage sales and bought what they thought were old junk.One man's trash was Shelly's treasure."I… I think I want to go home now."

"All right then.I'm having another official to contact Mr. George Weasley – your best friend, you said?"I nodded."He'll take you home, but I trust you'll be available for questioning?"

"Questioning?Questioning for what?"She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, looking like she was half-pitying me and half-exasperated.

"Sit here and wait," she said.Her patience seemed to have reached its end and I curled my feet beneath me on the couch.Her words pounded in my head and I picked up a cushion from the sofa and put it over my chest.Something was very wrong, but my mind had put up some sort of a block and I couldn't tell what was so upsetting.Shelly would be home soon and she would explain it to me.

"Anya?" a voice said from the doorway.I looked up and saw George standing in the doorway, looking confused and panicked.I had never seen him look so helpless before, like he was in Charms class for the first time and had no idea how to make the feather float."Oh, thank Merlin," he breathed as he rushed across the room and swept me into his arms.He held me tightly against his strong chest, pressing his lips roughly to my hair.Out of sheer need to be held, I wrapped my arms tightly around him.I heard his voice near my ear, muffled: "The… the Ministry official came my house… said you were… you were involved in a death… he didn't know… wouldn't tell me… gave me an address… thought I'd lost you."

The only other time in my entire life I'd felt him hold me like that was just after the Missing Week in VWII.

I had gone back to be with my father during that time.I didn't breathe a word about the war to him; I was afraid he would fall apart.I must have owled George and Shelly thousands of times.Within hours, Shelly would write back.None of George's letters elicited replies.

I stayed in my old room at my father's house, so empty now that my mother had passed away and my brother had disappeared in the war, a noble soldier.My father would stand in the doorway when he thought I was asleep and watch me for a while as though scared if he closed his eyes for a few moments that he would open them and I, too, would be gone.I don't think I ever really understood how lonely he had been after my mum's passing until after his own death. 

_Shelly wrote me short notes about latest developments.The Daily Prophet ceased to be delivered to my door, but Shelly's correspondence was able to paint a vivid picture.Hundreds of thousands of witches and wizards were killed in cold blood within that week.Tension mounted around the house as days passed with no word from George.I can't remember being so terrified before in my life.Shelly finally sent me one last letter, saying that things had become eerily quiet.I think that might have scared me more than the killings._

_ _

_In the late evening hours of that final Saturday, I was up in my room, writing one last owl to George.If he didn't reply… well, I would never give up on him unless I saw—I would never give up on him.The doorbell rang downstairs and I heard my father's voice call, "I'll get it, princess."He had always called my mum his Russian queen and me their beautiful princess._

_ _

_"All right," I called down in a ragged sort of voice.I heard footsteps and then a door opening.Two deep male voices conversed for a few moments before he called for me again._

_ _

_"You've got a visitor, Anya," he called.I bottled my inkwell, pulled the parchment off my lap and trudged across my room to open the door.I stepped out into the hallway and paused at the top of the stairs.At the bottom were my dad and a very familiar redhead._

_ _

_"George!" I shrieked.I flew down the stairs and threw my arms around him.He staggered back a few steps and wound his arms tightly around me._

_ _

_"You're okay," he whispered against my hair."I was so scared."_

_ _

_"I was scared, too… you didn't answer any of my owls… Where were you?"_

_ _

He never told me.

"Anya, are you all right?"I looked up at George and remembered that I was standing in Shelly Walter's sitting room in 2004, not my father's entryway in 1998.Six years.Distant past."Can you hear me?Oh, God, she's in shock… can someone—"

_ _

"No… no, I'm okay.I want to go home.I'm confused," I whispered."No one will tell me why all these people are in Shelly's house.She's going to be so furious when she gets home."The rude woman, Kauffman, who had been talking to me earlier with all sorts of crazy ideas, leaned close to George and whispered something.George's brilliant blue eyes held a sort of sad pity as she spoke.__

_ _

"I'll take you home," he said raggedly.

I can't remember how I got to my house, into my pajamas and tucked into bed, but I do remember George sitting beside me and telling me to get sleep, because everything would make sense in the morning.

"Just lay back and get some rest," he said, his voice sounding strained.I laid back into my pillows and closed my eyes.I felt my covers being pulled up to my neck and tucked in around me snugly.A whisp of hair was swept away from my face and I slowly began to lose consciousness.

"Stay until morning," I slurred out sleepily, as darkness began to close in.I just barely heard George's agreement before I drifted away.

The horror of finding Shelly's lifeless body played over and over in my head, disguised as a dream, until I woke up screaming.The pieces all fell into place at once… the goblet… the unwavering, crystalline stare… the stain on the carpet… the Ministry officials… Strong arms wrapped themselves around me as I began to thrash violently.

"_NO!NO, LET ME GO!I'VE GOT TO GET TO SHELLY!_" I screamed.My energy drained as I fought my unseen captor and slumped limply into the protective embrace, sobbing."She's not dead… not dead," I cried into a warm shoulder.I pulled away and saw George looking at me, whispering something comforting that I couldn't understand over my own sobs."She's not dead," I murmured.I begged him to tell me I was right, that it was a huge misunderstanding, a dream that was too vivid for easy dismissal.

"She's gone, love," he said gently, wiping my tears away with his thumbs.This only infuriated me more.How _dare_ he lie to me about something like this?I tried to hit him so he would admit that he was lying, but he only grabbed my fists and held them securely against my sides until my forearms hurt and I gave up.

I understood then that Shelly was gone.I had found her body, but my mind wouldn't let me accept it.George was all I had left and he would probably leave me, too.I told him this as I tried to calm myself, quite unsuccessfully.

"I'll never leave you," he promised in a whisper, wiping fresh tears from my face."I promise you that, Anya."He couldn't promise me that.He could die at any moment and I would have nothing.No family, no friends… nothing.Nothing but memories.His hands released my wrists and I wrapped by arms around him limply, burying my face against his shoulder.

"Don't leave…I can't lose you, too… don't leave," I begged, voice muffled against his robes.I felt his hands shaking on my back as he held me.He might've been crying, too, but I wasn't sure.

"I'll stay here," he swore."I'll take care of you… no one will hurt you while I'm here."The worlds were familiar, but I was too upset to try placing them.I pressed myself against him tightly, slowly calming to the gentle beating of his heart against my own chest.

***

When I woke up, my first thought was that the previous night hadn't occurred, for I felt too warm, too safe and secure for anything horrible to ever have happened to me.I opened my eyes slowly and saw I was tucked under the covers.My eyes drifted upwards and I saw George lying beside me, his red hair clashing horribly with my orange pillow.He was sleeping quietly, his arms still wound tightly around me.I sighed softly and rested my head against his strong chest, listening to his heartbeat beneath my ear.

"You 'wake?" George slurred out.I lifted my head to look at him and nodded.His eyes were only half-open and he removed one arm from around me to rub his left eye sleepily with his fist.

"Good morning," I whispered, as his arm circled me again.He smiled a little at this and opened his eyes all the way."Sleep well?" I asked as I swept a lock of fiery hair from his face.

"I could lay like this forever," he murmured.With those words, we toed some unspoken line drawn in every friendship like ours.I lifted my eyes to his and was immediately lost in those gigantic blue irises of his that had always brought warmth and comfort into my life.

"Well… why not?" I said in a soft whisper.His blue eyes then began to close a little and I was aware of the soft pressure of his hand against my back.It was all the encouragement I needed.

I dipped my head forward and pressed my lips against his.No resistance there.I had to admit the effect was intoxicating.It was like stepping into a warm bath filled up with bubbles.His lips were very soft and he was kissing me gently, as though he was afraid he'd hurt me.I reached one hand up and tangled my fingers into his fiery hair.I felt his hand slowly slide down my side and when it began to move upwards again, there was no barrier between his fingers and my flesh.

_Take me_, I begged without words_.Take me and make the rest of the world disappear_.I brushed my fingers softly against his cheek and—

He pulled away abruptly, leaving us both gasping for air.I searched his face, trying to figure out what I had done wrong.He wanted this, too, didn't he?

"We… we can't do this," he croaked, looking terribly torn."I… Not when you're… I can't let you."He pushed me away gently but firmly and pulled the covers off us.The next thing I knew, he was standing before my bed, hair ruffled and robes disheveled.He looked nervous as I sat up."I told Fred I'd… I'd open the shop this morning."

I turned my face away from him and looked at the wall, an embarrassed flush creeping up my neck."Okay," I said tonelessly.My head was still spinning from the kiss and I hated myself for it.Obviously, it had meant nothing to him and he'd rejected me, just like Sean had.I heard the door close.

With the sound of the click, the tears burst forth.I tore the covers from my bed and threw them to the ground viciously.I made a point to trample over them as I stalked out of my bedroom and into the sitting room.Rage pounding in my ears, I lifted up the tiny stone Ashwinder from my dining room table and whipped it into the kitchen with as much strength as I could muster.The sound of shattered stone did little to alleviate my frustrations.

I wiped my tears from my face angrily with the back of my hand as I staggered into the kitchen.I went immediately to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of wine.Wiping my face again and mentally berating myself for bothering to care about George Weasley, I threw open my cabinet door, grabbed a wine glass and slammed the door shut again.With bottle and glass, I sat at the kitchen table and drank until I couldn't see straight.

_This is wrong_, my conscience told me._This is not the way to deal with loss._My pride however, had comments more along the lines of _Screw you._

_ _

I lifted up the wine bottle into my hands and giggled madly.It had lost so much weight since I had gotten it out of the fridge.I would have to commend it and ask it what sort of diet it had.I walked (staggered, actually) to the garbage can (no use for an empty wine bottle, now is there?) and aimed carefully.With the precision of a lazy-eyed three-year old, I next heard the sound of breaking glass.

Oh, well.With a hiccup, I stepped over the pretty glass with the sharp edges and headed for the bathroom, a sick feeling rising from my stomach.A good cold shower would make the room stop spinning.I pushed open the bathroom door and heard a scuffling inside.Stevie, that damn cat.I stumbled over to the sink, placing one hand on each side of the porcelain basin.I turned on the faucets and splashed water onto my face.Shaking uncontrollably, I looked up into the mirror and gazed at my sorry self.

Both of my eyes were red, with a rosy nose to match.My hair was tangled and looked as though a hippogriff had nested in it.My skin was pale and I was shivering, though the house was very hot.What had happened to the beautiful woman Shelly had created in me less than a month before?I began to speak then, not recognizing the hoarseness of my own voice.

"No family to love me, no boyfriend to care, no best friend to pick up the pieces..." I said to my awful reflection.Shelly was dead, Sean didn't want me, George never had and never will.He had always been pretending, just like the one time Katie Bell had helped me with Divination and I ended up getting only two out of ten on the paper.They were always pretending, never real."You filthy little Mudblood," I swore.

I drew back the shower curtain and gazed downwards.What was before me wasn't real, couldn't have been real, but it didn't stop me from staring.Draped haphazardly across the bathtub was George, head resting on his shoulder and blood trickling from the corner of his lips.The entire bathtub was filled with blood and his robes floated lazily in the crimson liquid.

That was the last straw.

I ran over the broken glass, feeling sharp pain in my feet, and to the front door.I had to get out of there before I lost my mind completely.My broomstick found its way into my hand and I snagged the bristles in one hand.Crying again, I threw the door open, mounted my broomstick and took off.The next thing I remembered was a tree swiftly passing me by and then blackness surrounding me.

To be continued…

Reviewer Thanks: **Dulcis** (Uh… heh… sorry about Sean.But you were totally right; there was loads more to his character, wasn't there?), **Lady Christina** (::giggles and rolls eyes::'Nuff said.), **Coriann** (Ahh!Stabs him in the back?!Ewwy.And believe me, I love nitpicking.I briefly thought of Dumbledore's line, but then I thought that Anya probably wouldn't know that: only Harry would.Sorry Anya/Sean couldn't've lasted.L), ~***Ginny***~ (Thanks so much!Solved it all?Ha.), **Leap** (Eeh.Sorry, but I had to make him pretend to be perfect.For Anya, that is.But is it okay because he was just pretending?::crosses fingers::), **AngieJ** (Three reviews in one day.My, my, miss Johnson, do we have time on our hands.;) ), **magical*little*me** (I'm not a hopeless romantic… I'm a… hopeful romantic.Hopeful.), **§phinx** (Whew.Must be nice to be rid of the obnoxious woman, eh?I kinda miss her though…), **Mrs. Fred** **Weasley** (::rolls eyes::Figures you've got to mention Fred's part in the story first.), **Vicki** **Granger** (Congrats!::cheers and claps::I figured someone would've got it.Shh… don't tell anyone though!Eek.Sorry about the chess thing.), **Florencia** (Brilliant?*ears get pink*), **Juliette** (Really?I thought _everyone_** -** well, everyone but me, really – saw that coming.I actually didn't, but as I was rereading the thing with Gatsby, I'm like, "Hmm… that's the type of thing George would do…" then I realized my muse was trying to tell me Gatsby WAS George!), **WeasleyTwinsFan** (Enjoy your cameo? JSorry you couldn't be a nicer character, but… heh… well, there you are!) **Quidditch** (Ah, yet another person who thinks Anya is manic-depressive sometimes.I'm sorry about the inconsistencies in her character, but they don't seem all that blatant to me for some reason.), **Five by Five **(George or Sean?Hmm… how about neither?Or both.Let Anya be a player.LOL), **LissaLapin** (I'm really flattered that you came into the story late and decided to review all four chapters.Most readers would read through and then just review the last chapter.I'm flattered.Thank you.), **Sue** (*whimpers* Why does everyone think Sean is evil?!And I applaud you for being the only one to pick up on Anya drinking too much wine.Very nice.), **Mina Jade** (Actually, Mo and Sean are cousins, not siblings.And George is sweet, isn't he?::hugs George::Gotta love him.Glad you liked the R/H snippet, but I daresay all the H/Hers following the series aren't.), **Amanda** (Of course I won't answer, but infer what you will…), **Gwenn** (I hope the Perfect!Sean issue has been resolved, no?), and **Hydy a.k.a Serpentese** (Ah, I'm impatient, too, and know EXACTLY how you feel.It seems like my favorite authors always take their precious time in a chapter after a cliffhanger.Would I ever do that?Well… maybe.).
    
    ~*~*JanaBelle*~*~
    
     
    
    "…I disagree with the critics who charge that the Harry Potter books teach witchcraft and Satanism. 
    
    Yes, I'm aware of the recent case in Pittsburgh, where a 9-year-old boy recited a so-called 
    
    ''magic spell'' from a Harry Potter book, and his piano teacher turned into a singing walnut. 
    
    At first glance, this incident seemed alarming, but it turned out that there was a ''perfectly 
    
    innocent explanation,'' according to a police source, who spoke on the condition 
    
    that his head be changed back to its normal size." – Dave Barry,
    
    [Get'cher Harry Potter ][2][Knockoffs While They're Hot][2]
    
     
    
     
    
     
    
     

   [1]: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HP_Paradise
   [2]: http://www.miami.com/herald/special/features/barry/1999/docs/aug13.htm



	6. Ghost of a Romance

A/N: See previous chapters

**A/N:** See previous chapters.Huge thanks to my betas: Ebony (who was most helpful with the ending dialogue), John (aka Crazy Ivan), Lady Christina, Virgo (who jump-started me countless times), JM Robin and Pippin (who helped me with a very important plot facet and helped me with a lot of the ending of this chapter).An extra credit belongs to Orson Scott Card, who created the descolada in his awesome book _Xenocide_.Please read the _Ender's Game_ series if you have the time – _Xenocide_ is third in line.Remember to check out the [HP_Paradise][1] list if you want to discuss or read the incoming chapters before (or after!) they're posted to ff.net.Thanks everyone!

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**Not Quite Paradise**

_"And if it's just that you're weak,_

_Can we talk about it?_

_It's getting so damn creepy_

_Just nursing this ghost of a chance,_

_The fiction, the romance,_

_And the Technicolor dreams…"_

----"Black & White People," Matchbox Twenty

Chapter Six Ghost of a Romance 

The first thing I woke to, some immeasurable time later, was the rhythmic sound of someone pacing back and forth across smooth tile.I opened my eyes slowly, aware of a faint pounding in my head.For a moment, all I saw was white.Then, the white was divided into rectangles by pale tan lines.I blinked a few times and looked up to see a foam-tiled ceiling.

"… Completely irresponsible," I heard a familiar voice say angrily from somewhere off to my right.The pacing stopped."I know she's your friend, George, and a damned good employee, but you and I _both_ know that we cannot have her working for us in that condition.She needs help."

I turned my head to the side, and felt the softness of a pillow beneath my face.I saw now that I was in a room, decorated so white that it made my eyes hurt.There were several machines beside my bed, including one that had a funny green line a few feet above it that spiked now and then.

"Damn it, Fred, she just lost her best friend in the entire world—" another voice argued.I could see that the door to my room was slightly ajar and I sat up a little, only to be forced back to the bed with tears in my eyes as a thread of pain began lacing its way through my skull.

"I don't care!Drinking and flying is not something to be taken lightly.It's the reason we only have three older brothers!"

These words struck me completely awake and I opened my eyes all the way to see Fred Weasley's face come into focus and stop in the small area of the hallway I could view from my bed.It occurred to me that I was the one they were talking about, but the 'three older brothers' comment threw me.Actually, it was the 'only.'

Next was George's scoffing reply, "You still believe Charlie's stupid stories he used to taunt us with when we were kids?He only did that because he wanted to upset the two of us.That's dragonshit and you know it."He paused here and Fred stepped out of my line of sight to be replaced by George, whose head was tilted slightly and was wearing a small, pleading frown.

His voice lowered to a whisper, but I could just barely make out what he was saying."Fred, Anya has never done anything like this before.Her best friend just committed suicide – Anya _found_ her for Merlin's sake – and I promised I would stay at her side all night in case she needed me.She woke up and… " George trailed off.I tensed slightly, wondering how much George intended on telling his twin about what I'd done – what George and I almost _did_.I remembered Angelina saying once that telling one twin something was just as good as telling the other.I flushed with shame and closed my eyes, not wanting to hear George relay my advances to his twin."Well, I left.What do you expect her to do?Shrug it off and go back to work?"

"Of course not!She can't just shrug this off, George.She needs help before she hurts someone else," Fred said hotly and stepped into my view. Now I could see both twins perfectly: Fred, looking hacked off and George, pleading.A bit more slowly this time, I sat up, using a pillow to prop myself up.I felt very tiny in this room of all white and hugged the covers around me.

My memory was in bits and pieces of awful things.The last clear memory I had was of Apparating to Shelly's house when it was cold.I had a jagged flash of lying in bed beside George, but I didn't understand why he was there.Everything after that was jagged images and bits of sound that didn't make much sense.My memory had no answer for the hangover I seemed to be experiencing.

"She didn't hurt anyone but herself!The one witness says she got about twenty meters in the air and then turned around to go back.That's when she must have blacked out and lost control of her broom," George was saying, as I was jarred from my thoughts.I tried to take what was said and make my memory give me some sort of image.It only partially worked, as I vaguely remembered getting onto my broom, tremendously upset, and taking off for whereabouts unknown.For some reason, in the memory, my feet hurt.

"That's far enough!Why won't you take this seriously?" Fred said, temper rising.With one pale, trembling hand, I lifted up the bottom of the sheets that covered me to reveal my feet.The tops of them looked okay, and I had all ten toes (yes, I counted to make sure).But when I drew a leg up towards me and bent my ankle to see the underside of my foot, I gasped.

Dozens of tiny red marks slashed every which way across the sole of my foot, looking anywhere from small scratches to deep gashes.Only slightly less than worrying about where the cuts came from, I wondered why they were still there.With the medimagical advancements in the wizarding world, no cut, scrape or bruise lasted longer than a few minutes with the most vicious of broken bones regrown in a night with an extra day under observation. 

My mind swimming and head still pounding, I covered my feet again and sat back into my pillows.

Fred's voice was slow and measured, leaving no room for argument, as he said, "She will not be employed at 3W until she undergoes some sort of rehabilitation and fixes her personal life.She needs time off to sort things out."

Sort things out?What sort of things?Fred was barking mad, he was.With a fierce twist in my stomach, I remembered Shelly.She was probably lying perfectly preserved in the magimorgue in St. Mungo's.The thought made my shudder, but also wonder where I was.

"The last thing she needs right now is to be alone.You know if she chooses the Treatment, she'll have to stay here for five days," George replied, voice desperate.I sat up a little straighter.Him not wanting me to be alone?How ironic.

"So stay with her, George," Fred said, voice heavy with exasperation."I'm not saying we sever all contact with her.I just want her to pull herself together before she returns to work."

The next words muttered out of George's mouth surprised me, "I'm probably the last person she wants to see right now."In a vivid flood of color, my memory flashed through my mind.Oh, God, what had I done?What had George and I almost done?I had drunk so much… an entire bottle of wine on my own.Then getting on a broomstick?I was lucky to be alive.

But what George had said wasn't true.He was the one I needed more than anything, the only one who could make all the confusing things go away.Would I admit it to him?No way.He didn't need me, nor want me, so I would change myself so I didn't need him.

"What happened between you two last night?"There was a pause and a gasp of understanding from Fred."The two of you didn't…"

"No, of course not.I did – I said – I was horrible to her and I left her when she needed me most.You don't understand why she—" George began, but his twin interrupted him.

"You think I don't understand Anya's motive for drinking just because I didn't have someone close to me die?For Merlin's sake, George, I saw what happened to you when Katie—" I snapped my head up, wincing in anticipation of George's reaction.

"Don't you dare bring Katie into this," he whispered dangerously."Anya will be suspended until she completes the Treatment and then will be put on evaluation for two months.She'll agree to the Treatment, I know she will."George paused for a moment."You can't take her from the life she knows.Her rehabilitation will be around people she's comfortable with, you and me."

"The Department of Magical Employment has guidelines about…" Fred began, but I could already tell George had won.

"Fred, please.If she refuses Treatment, we'll let her go.But give her one more chance."I waited a moment, in tense silence, before I heard Fred's heavy sigh.He said something to George that I didn't hear clearly, but then I saw them quickly embrace and George say, "Thanks, brother."I sank back into my pillows, head spinning.It was far too much to digest at once.I closed my eyes very slowly and they remained closed as I heard the click of a door closing.

I opened my eyes slowly and saw George leaning his head against the doorframe, eyes closed.The anguish on his face made me want to leap out of bed, race across the room and hold him in my arms, telling him I was okay and everything would be all right.He reached a fist up as though to pound against the door, but then slowly dropped it.With a soft sigh, he turned and met my eyes.

"Hey," he said raggedly.He came a little closer to the bed, looking a little awkward.I cursed what I had done.Things would never be the same.I had lost my best friend in the world because I needed him more than ever.It was strange how life worked in cruel paradoxes."How're you feeling?"I bowed my head in shame, not answering."Anya?"

I looked up at him, fighting tears, and saw nothing but worry and compassion in his brilliant blue eyes.

"What?" I murmured, voice cracking."What are you doing here?"He looked appalled for a moment, as though he couldn't imagine me asking such a question.

"I… I was worried, of course," he sputtered, eyes darting back and forth."Hermione was here at Paracelsus when you were brought in.She sent an owl to the shop and told me… I rushed here immediately; Fred and I were at work…" I narrowed my eyes at him because it was a lot easier to be angry with him than to be feeling hurt.Besides, I had every right to be angry with him.

"Yes, and Fred must have been late because it was you who had to open the shop this morning, isn't that right?" I said in a scathing tone.I could see his anger begin to rise with mine as I spoke those words.After a moment of searching for the right reply, the fury slowly dissipated from his face.

"I know what's making you say these things," George said."It's the alcohol.Anya, I talked to Dr. Borowski… there was so much alcohol in your bloodstream; why did you do it?"

"The alcohol made things go away," I said, my voice sounding unnatural and shaky."Without you there to do it for me, alcohol worked.You _left_, George.Left me so you could open your bloody little joke shop."I drew in a quivering breath and raised my chin."See?I don't need you, George."

"Anya—"

"And speaking of that silly little store," I continued hotly, as though he hadn't spoken, "you can find yourself another record keeper because I'm not about to take your pity when half of the ownership wants me to go this alone."George's eyes were wide as he watched me take shuddering breaths.Finally, his features hardened into a mask of indifference and he stood.

"I won't deal with you when you're like this," he said shortly.With one last disbelieving glance, he swept out of the room.

Feeling drained physically and emotionally, I sank back against my pillows with a quivering sigh.Needing warmth, as the temperature seemed to have dropped drastically in the past few seconds, I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering.I had been horrible to George, but I wasn't wrong.I didn't need him.He was someone I loved being with, perhaps was in love with, but I had gotten over Sean, hadn't I?Everything would be fine without him, without anyone.

I let my head fall gently to the soft pillow and began to weep.This was too damn much at once.I threw the covers off the bed and onto the floor.I stormed around the room, looking for a drink.Surely that would make things clearer.I searched under the bed, in the night table and even kicked the small dustbins over in my fury.My foot stung then, and I sank back against the wall, too numb for tears.With the last pound of fist on the floor, I was asleep.

***

When I awakened the next morning, I was safely tucked into my bed.The mess I'd left behind in my selfish outburst had been cleaned up and not a single trace of it remained.If not for the soreness in my toes, I might've thought it had been a dream.I sat up slowly, running my fingers through my surprisingly untangled hair and propped a few pillows up behind me.Just as I resolved to go get someone, a slim doctor entered my room with a clipboard of parchment.

She wore thick-framed glasses and had her hair tied back in a tight bun.My first impression was of Madam Pince, but I certainly didn't tell her that.She looked up at me and seemed faintly amused that I was awake.

"Miss Parker?"

"Yes?"My voice sounded funny.

"My name is Dr. Susan Borowski and I'm here in England as part of an exchange program from the United States.As your acting mediwitch, I am here to inform you of what happened and what your options are."I almost turned into an ice cube."A search of your house plus several blood tests have brought us to the conclusion that you had consumed an enormous amount of alcohol and then took control of an aerial transportation device.Is this correct?"

"Yes," I said meekly.

"We also have also found shattered, bloody glass in the kitchen and a boggart in the bathroom.The glass is no doubt what caused abrasions on your feet.The boggart, we feel, is unrelated to the incidents."Oh, a doctor, a Ministry Law Enforcement Official and a magical creature expert all rolled into one.What fun."As a result, your permit to operate aerial transportation devices will be suspended for two calendar years.You may bring this to the Board of Magical Law Enforcement if you wish to make an appeal."

"I don't," I said evenly."I accept the consequences." Damn it, two years without my broom.Couldn't say it didn't serve me right.I probably belonged behind bars.

"Right then, makes a lot of people's jobs a whole lot easier."Just then, another doctor entered the room.He was slim, if not a bit gangly, and had sparking blue eyes hidden behind plain black thin-framed spectacles.His dark blonde hair flopped lazily over his ears and he absently smoothed it down as he entered my hospital room.He was quite fetching indeed.

I watched as he crossed the room, eyes never leaving him.When he looked up, he seemed pleasantly surprised to see me.

"Why hello," he said brightly, as though Dr. Borowski wasn't there."My name is Dr. Simon Branford but you can call me Tony if you'd like."I gave a sideways look at this strange individual as he settled into a chair beside my bed.He asked me a few standard questions and then did an aura check. I shivered as he did it; aura checks always made me feel cold and I could never stand being at a doctor's office.

"So, you understand what happened and why you're here, correct?"He glanced over at Dr. Borowski and we both nodded gravely.She gave an extra firm nod and exited.

"I overheard something about the Treatment yesterday… what is it?"

"The Treatment will last exactly five days.During those five days, no magic is to be used by you or on you," he began."After the initial injection, you may not have any potions administered to you if they involve magical properties."

"So I'm a Muggle for the next week, right?" I asked, trying not to sound too terribly disappointed.He nodded and continued.It struck me then that I couldn't have any Dreamless Sleep Potion, exactly what I should have taken in the first place.

"You will be staying here for the duration of the Treatment and your meals will be provided for you.Any attempts to sneak in extra food will only result in disruption of treatment, so I advise against it."This was probably a bluff, but I certainly wasn't going to test it."I won't lie to you, Anya.This is one of the most difficult and painful medimagical treatments.Only thirty-four of the two hundred seventeen of those who go into it ended up succeeding.At the end of each day, you'll be more emotionally, physically and magically drained.By the last half hour on the final day, you will be in severe physical discomfort.It's your body's way of using the initial potion to clean out the addiction from your psyche.

"The only thing that will restore you to full health immediately during the next five days will be a fix of your addiction; in your case: alcohol.I must warn you, however, that if you enter the Treatment contract and then break it by giving in to your addiction, the dependence will become a thousand times harder to destroy.Treatment is a one-time deal.There are no second chances."

"I understand," I said quietly.Only about thirty percent had made it through.That meant seventy percent were still wound up in their addictions.Dare I take such a chance?Dare I pass it up?The decision had to be mine, not anyone else's.George believed I could do it, but in no uncertain terms was I going to go through it for him.I was going to go through it for me."I'll do it," I said softly, looking up at Dr. Branford.He smiled kindly.

"I've already drawn up the parchment work for you," he told me, adjusting his glasses."Mr. Weasley was certain you'd follow through."He turned to leave, but I had to know one more thing before he left.

"That's why my feet aren't healed, isn't it?He told you I would agree and you started the preparations early, didn't you?"Dr. Branford turned back slowly and nodded.

"We only did what had to be done to save your life.The less outside magical essence performed on you, the greater the chance the Treatment will be effective.We do, however, have you on Muggle painkillers, and that's why your feet aren't hurting."I took a deep breath and forced myself not to grit my teeth too hard.

"I will follow through with this, but I will make my own decisions from now on," I said evenly, leaving no room for misinterpretation.I didn't need George's misguided chivalry to put my life back together.I didn't understand why his mind worked the way it did that morning.He had been a part of the initiation of that kiss; I hadn't imagined it.He'd left me, walked out the door when I needed him more than anything.Now, out of nowhere, he reappeared and wanted to take care of my well being?No.From now on, I was going to be on my own in this and not need him or anyone to take care of me.I was twenty-six bloody years old and it was high time I stopped behaving like a child who needed constant attention.

I reached for the quill and signed my name at the bottom of the parchment Dr. Branford handed me.

***

As promised, my week was hellish.The first few days weren't too awful, but the nights were beyond reason.The nightmares returned, more vivid than ever.Different ones came as well, like the day I found out about my mother's death.I woke up crying and it took me twenty minutes to get myself under control.

I wasn't terribly lonely, much to my surprise.Neville Longbottom, who had been so clumsy at one time, became a well-established doctor in one of the most prestigious medimagical practices in the UK.Just the same, he took time each day to visit with me.It was amazing how much he'd changed and grown since Hogwarts.He was slimmer, almost lanky, and his freckles were the only things on his face to remind me of his younger self.And, my goodness, he was _handsome_.He was, however, far too serious for my liking.

He had a voice, however, and a pair of ears to listen to me, so I couldn't really complain all that much.I learned quickly that he was good at analyzation, but sometimes he failed to keep people's emotions in mind.

"Perhaps the little girl isn't responding well to tests because she's frightened," I suggested, after he told me about a particular patient he was having trouble with.The little girl in question, Rebecca Jamison, had been ill with what doctors feared to be a Sponge-related virus.The source of the illness was still unknown, but Hermione's tests had proved there were no traces of the descolada virus.The other tests were inconclusive, as adrenaline levels were too high during testing to give accurate results.

"I just don't understand why it's so hard for this patient to perform a simple test," he wondered, scratching his chin absently.I sat up on the bed and looked at him.

"Well, the first thing you need to do is stop calling her 'the patient.'This is a little girl you're talking about.She's in a hospital, quarantined from her parents, and without a familiar face to turn to.How is she supposed to be comfortable?"

"You know, I ran the concept of solitude affecting the test procedures past Granger and Potter, but they both thought it was nonsense," Neville replied, cocking his head to one side thoughtfully.

"Hermione 'Facts-Before-Feelings' Granger-Weasley and Harry 'I-Spent-My-Childhood-in-a- Cupboard' Potter are _not_ the best people to go for emotional consultation." I noticed Neville trying hard to hide a smirk."Let her parents see her, and bring her a teddy bear from home and make sure there's a nurse available to talk to her when she's scared.Neville, remember when you broke your wrist during your first flying lesson?"I had been in the infirmary myself with a bad stomachache from too many Chocolate Mangoes when he was brought in."Remember how you wanted to owl your gran?"The man before me frowned slightly, as though reflecting upon some lost memory."That's all Rebecca wants; she needs a person to hold onto that she's always been able to trust."

"Why don't you consider a career in psychowizardry?You'd be dead helpful to a lot of people," he said abruptly."A lot of lives would benefit from your advice.I would advise looking into it once you get everything straightened out."I blushed furiously, and thanked him for the compliment.Eventually, conversation turned to the Treatment and the scientific processes behind it.I must say, counting his freckles was far more invigorating.

"As a matter of fact, when I went through the Treatment—" That jarred me out of my counting faster than a hippogriff being chased through the air by a Hungarian Horntail.

"You went through Treatment?" I repeated with raised eyebrows.He nodded slowly, looking absolutely scandalized over what he'd said.I supposed I'd lulled him into such a sense of security that he dropped his guard.

"A team of scientists has been involved in working on the Sponge phenomenon ever since we recognized its existence.They studied all sorts of different psyches and they found out…" This seemed hard for him to say, but he looked up at me and his resolve seemed to strengthen."They found that a lot of the patients in Mungo's psycho ward were actually victims of a primitive form of the Sponge, a test round, so to speak."His voice was thick with emotion, but his words were precise."My parents were among them."

I crawled across the bed so I was sitting nearer to him.This seemed to comfort him somehow.Never before had I seen this effect I had on people.To everyone but those I intended it for.

"I hit the bottle as hard as you did, Anya.Probably a lot harder.I tried not to believe.It was hard enough knowing that my parents were _Crucio_ed to insanity, but it was far too late for a cure _we now had_.It was too much." He removed his glasses briefly, rubbed his eyes, and slowly slid his spectacles back on his nose."Luckily, Susan noticed how the alcohol was destroying me."Susan Bones was his longtime girlfriend and their serious yet untied relationship was just about as famous as Alicia Spinnet and Lee Jordan's."The people you love are the first to help you, Anya," he said carefully.His crystal eyes carefully studied me for a reaction.I suppose the whole world knew about George and me, though I couldn't picture George telling anyone except for Fred, and I knew Fred wouldn't do anything to upset his brother.

Maybe all an outsider had to do was watch us interact.Maybe we were that transparent.

"I know what you're thinking and George has made it abundantly clear that he wants nothing more to do with me.He hasn't even stopped by to visit once in the past three days."

"I don't blame him.I overheard some of the things you said to him the day you were brought in.You hardly gave him a chance to speak."I blinked repeatedly, totally shocked.

"You… you don't know what happened… you can't possibly—" I sputtered.He regarded me with a raised eyebrow as he stood.

"Anya, I'm not going to play judge or jury.But you and George have the most incredible two-person friendship I've ever seen.Sure, there's the Trio and the Chasers before Katie's death and Lee and the twins, but with you and George, no one gets excluded.No one gets left out.Don't give this up over one little incident."Without awaiting a response, he got up and left the room.

***

That night, I dreamt.

_I know it's a dream as soon as it begins.For one, the sky is much too blue, the grass is much too green and the songs of the birds are much too beautiful for any of it to be real.I am in what I know is a small forest.I can't see anything beyond the trees, but somehow, I know it isn't a huge place like the Forbidden Forest._

_ _

_I follow a small path that was frequently crossed by butterflies and little toads that remind me of the ones in the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley.The sun shines brightly on the path and guides me through the tranquil forest.I feel a presence on my left and look over to see George.His hand is in mine and he is talking to me about something – Quidditch maybe – and then turns to smile broadly at me._

_ _

_"What are _you_ smiling about?" I ask him with my own grin.He shrugs._

_ _

_"We're almost there," he tells me, and points ahead.There is an opening in the trees and it looks as though it leads into some sort of field.I pull on his hand, anxious to get there.He stumbles along behind me and I turn to make a comment about his grace.With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he scoops me up in his arms.Giggling, I throw my arms around his neck and he carries me the rest of the way down the path._

_ _

_As we break out of the forest and into what looks like a typical London backyard, he gently lets me stand on my own feet.I recognize the house as the one I grew up in when I was young.It has the same light paint and the same dark roof.The patio out back still has the small table with chairs surrounding it.The light blue gazebo with a swing inside that my dad built for my mum still stands proudly at the edge of the lawn._

_ _

_"I want you to see something," I tell George and pull him with me to the gazebo.I point to a series of markings along one of the posts._Anya, age 5.Michael, age 9.Anya, age 6.Michael, age 10._"Mum and Dad always brought us out here on our birthdays and measured our heights."_

"My family would need another gazebo," George jokes.."Come on; let's go inside.Your mum and dad will be expecting us."For some reason, I see nothing wrong with this scenario.

"Hello, Mum!Hello, Dad!" I say brightly as I bound into the house.They're at the table, smiling, food set at four places.They each rise to embrace me.George and I sit beside each other and I feel George's ankle wrap around mine beneath the table and hide a smile.

_Everyone is talking; the atmosphere is relaxed.The kitchen is warm and smells of Mum's cooking.I slowly leave the conversation and enjoy just eating, looking down at my plate and listening to my loved ones' voices fill my head.I lift my head to answer Mum's question and recoil in horror._

_ _

_Three skeletons sit at the table with me, bony jaws wide with maniacal grins.I shove my chair backwards and stagger away as the bones slowly disintegrate to dust.I hear a voice calling my name… _

_ _

"Anya, wake up.You're having a nightmare.Anya!"I bolted upwards in bed, breathing heavily.I nearly collapsed back down to the covers, but strong arms were soon surrounding me.I could feel tears on my cheeks, but had no memory of crying.I was far too exhausted to sort things out._Dear God, please let me have one night of peace.It's all I ask._

I didn't particularly give a toss about whose arms I was in, but I felt myself being lowered gently back down to the bed and tucked in again.Warm hands paused on my shoulders for a moment, before releasing their gentle pressure.I heard the soft patter of reluctant feet walking away and then a door opening and closing.

***

Sean Ludlam visited a few times during my stay.While he wasn't maintaining his perfect façade, he was tactful enough not to ask how I'd gotten here or what happened.All he said was that he'd gone to 3W to say hello to me and Fred had given him the news.I wanted to ask if George had been there, but I didn't.

Sean brought a chessboard and pieces with him and although he won all three games, it made me feel better to return to a sense of normalcy.But I couldn't shake the feeling I was being watched.I looked over at the viewing window near the door, but of course, I saw nothing but my own reflection.Dr. Branford had told me it was for monitoring patients as they slept without disturbing the occupants within.They were supposed to be turned off during the day, but there had been a lot of recent trouble with the hospital's magical equipment lately.

I could still feel eyes on me.

***

I woke up on two days later - day five - wanting to die.I couldn't open my eyes, let alone sit up.I wanted to go back to sleep, but was far too afraid.If I'd been slightly upset by my original nightmare, the ones occurring in the past few days had terrified me beyond all reason.

And I wanted a damn drink.

I wanted a drink so bad I could _taste_ it.Besides staving off nightmares, alcohol had made my body addicted in the worst way.No, no, that was nonsense.I had made myself addicted to alcohol.It was easily the stupidest thing I could let myself do.

My blood pressure was high, I had an increased heart rate, and I felt as though I had a constant stomachache.Never again would I touch a drink with a higher proof than butterbeer.And even that was to be drunk in very small amounts.

I faded in and out of consciousness.Luckily, I was never asleep long enough to dream or if I was, I didn't remember.During snatches of being awake, I was aware of missing 3W.I missed the fun, warm atmosphere and the security of being somewhere where nothing bad ever happened.I missed listening to Fred and George toss around new product ideas.I even missed the obnoxious little children racing up and down the aisles.

I woke once to see Dr. Branford standing beside my bed.

"Only a few more hours, Anya.You can make it," he said with a reassuring smile."You're a lot stronger than you think you are."I called him something really mean that I dare not repeat in a whisper in the middle of the Sahara desert and abruptly fell asleep again.

A pounding pain reawakened me in my head that seemed to roll in waves down my body.Dr. Branford was still there, along with Neville and Hermione.Hermione was saying something to me but it sounded as though she was speaking to me from underwater.

"Want… drink…" I managed to gasp.My chest cavity felt as though it was becoming smaller and smaller and my breaths came in shorter gasps.

"Get one of those damned Muggle air masks on her," Hermione said angrily."We can't have her gasping like a mermaid out of water."Neville disappeared for a moment, then my mouth felt funny and I could breathe better.

"_You're doing wonderful, love_," a faraway yet familiar voice said.I blinked a few times and looked over to the side of the bed opposite where the doctors were standing.There was a figure in such bright white that it blinded me.I squinted away from the light and it faded slightly.I made out features.

"Daddy?" I whispered.I heard murmuring from the side of the doctors, but paid no attention.The ghostly specter on my right nodded."Daddy, you must be so ashamed of me," I whimpered, tears springing to my eyes."Merlin knows I'm ashamed of myself."He reached down to wipe my tears away but his fingers passed through my face.

"_We all make mistakes, Anya.It is best to be grateful that you are able to take care of your consequences."_He smiled kindly at me and I felt the warm weight of his hand in mine.It was impossible, but I was far too incoherent to think much of it.

"I messed up really bad, Daddy.George doesn't care anymore… Shelly's with you now… I hate being alone.So scared."

"_You're never alone.I promise you that you're never alone.Your mother and I are with you always."_

"Just a few more minutes, Anya.Hang on," Neville's voice broke through the haze.I concentrated on nothing but my father's face and the sound of his voice until I felt a slow dissipation of pain in my body.It was as though sand was slowly being poured through a sieve and I rested, exhausted, back against my pillows.My father faded slowly as I fought to maintain a grasp on his hand, my lifeline.

"_I'm so proud of you, princess_," he murmured.I could have sworn I felt him kiss my forehead very softly.

"You made it; I knew you would."Simon, maybe.Or Neville.Couldn't tell."I'll get some Dreamless Sleep Potion.You could use some peace."I felt a poke in my arm and everything after that was a peaceful blackness.

***

"Miss Parker, an excellent job, I must say," Neville said with a broad grin.He offered his hand.I smiled back and shook his hand as I shouldered my bag."I admit I had my doubts, but here you are."

"Here I am," I sighed.He frowned.

"Something else troubling you?" he asked.Ah, the man was perceptive.I sat on the bed and he reluctantly sat beside me.I had taught him well; he was watching me as though interested in what I was about to say."Are you worried about telling everyone about what happened?I mean, besides those who don't know?I think you should be enormously proud of yourself."

"That's just it.I've got no one, Neville," I said in a strangled voice.I had never voiced the words before, but they were so hollow and empty and… true."There's no one out there waiting for me… no one to _be_ proud of me."He looked down at me with not pity but sympathy in his eyes."I'm going home to an empty house."

"Now I don't believe that for one minute, Anya," he said gently, as though coaxing someone to step away from the Owlery window because they had too much to live for."George has been here every day… He asked me not to tell you he was here, but he's come every day and watched through the viewing window, if just for a little while."My eyes flickered over to the one-way mirror next to the door. "Sometimes I would allow him in here for a few minutes while you were asleep.Whether he admits it to you or not, he's very concerned for your well-being."Neville fell silent then, and studied me carefully.

"He was here?" I repeated.

"Every day," he confirmed.My mind spun, digesting this new information.He had given every indication he was fed up with me but to be so worried?Why wouldn't he want me to know he was here?Damn, and I thought I had everything figured out."Look, Anya, you're a bright, wonderful witch.George knows this and he'll act on it as he sees fit.As a spokesperson for males everywhere, I tell you with all confidences that blokes are severely daft when it comes to women.But I know you two will figure things out."

That was my life in a nutshell: one big misunderstanding._Couldn't've said it better myself, Neville._

"Thanks, Neville," I said, forcing a smile.I stood and stopped, startled, to see Angelina in the doorway.Before I knew what was happening, I got a hug and a kiss on each cheek.

"Angelina, what are you doing here?" I stammered.She laughed and waved off my words as though they were silly nothings.

"You didn't think I was going to let you go home all by yourself?Goodness, you've been in the hospital for a week!" Mrs. Seven-Months-Pregnant said as though I should have known it all along.I smiled gratefully as Neville excused himself politely, said he had rounds to make, and made a hasty departure.

"Angelina, really, I can make it home on my own.You really shouldn't have bothered—" I began.Angelina smiled over at me, one hand over her swollen stomach, the other waving away my words.

"So I take it you're a part of the Society Against Angelina Doing Things On Her Own, are you?Well, Fred's minister, but you can run for deputy minister," she said flippantly as we exited the room and slowly began walking down the hallway together.I had just thought to go slow so she could keep up, but I was the one lagging behind slightly."Fred's kept me cooped up in the blasted house, as though I had some sort of disease.For Merlin's sake, I'm pregnant, not ill."I laughed with her at this; Angelina Weasley was always one to get her own way.After a few more minutes of silence and a slight slowing of the pace on her part, she touched my arm softly.

"Oh, how terribly insensitive of me… how are _you_ doing, Anya?" she asked gently.I avoided her eyes and looked down at my shoes as we turned a corner.

"I'm okay," I lied.I wasn't okay.Not yet.Soon, I would be, but not yet."Pretty tired.I'm probably going to sleep through the next three days."I chuckled nervously.

"Bad times are hard.Sometimes it seems like it won't get better, doesn't it?"I didn't look over at her.I didn't answer.As soon as my eyes would meet hers, she would know.I gave myself a good mental smack for it.I couldn't wear my heart on my sleeve like that."But if there's one thing I've learned about hard times, it's that the harder they are, the better things seem to be when they're over.A reward of sorts."This time I did look over at her.I acted irresponsibly and irrationally and… I was going to get _rewarded_ for it?

"I know Alicia and Katie and I weren't terribly… er… welcoming to you back at Hogwarts.We were just teenagers who had found a target, childish foolishness."For a moment, I wondered if she was going to ask for the forgiveness I'd granted her thousands of times over."We didn't include you because we didn't think you were strong enough.But I know now that you are strong enough and you will make it.Have some faith in yourself."

"I have no reason to," I said softly.We were now standing just outside Paracelsus.There was nothing more I wanted to do than take a taxibroom home, feed my cat and have myself a good long cry.Something kept me there, though; something kept me rooted to the spot, listening to Angelina.

"Enough of that no self-esteem centaur crap!" Angelina said, in all her frustrated glory.Then I appreciated why Fred loved her so much; she was his perfect match.He would never be able to walk all over her, push her over.She was a match, an equal, and a partner.She didn't take no for an answer.Her way or the flyway."You're a wonderful person, you know that.You made it through a procedure that loads of witches and wizards haven't had the courage to attempt.

"One time when you were writing home to your parents in first year, and you didn't think anyone was listening (not to mention you have this awful habit of muttering as you write), you asked them why you were placed in Gryffindor.This is why, Anya.You may not be out there with Harry saving the world or being a Quidditch superstar like Alicia or broadcasting Quidditch all over the world like Lee.Just because they're making flashy accomplishments doesn't mean the battles _you_ win go unnoticed."

I blinked at her for a few moments, not entirely sure what to say.It was absolutely the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to me, but at the same time, terribly confusing.The silence hung comfortably in the air as I tried to absorb what she said. After a while, as the quiet seemed it would never be broken, Angelina nudged me gently. "I would think you want to get home."

"Thank you," I said in a broken voice.

***

I stood silently at the top of the hill, ignoring the breeze that whipped my cloak about my legs.Though windy, it was an otherwise perfectly sunny day with only the fluffiest of clouds hiding the periwinkle sky.Cruelly ironic sort of weather for a funeral, but then, it was the only day of the week that I had been out of Paracelsus that the weather had been nice.

The priest had long since left and there were only five or six others left standing around Shelly's grave.I raised my eyes from her tombstone to see Matthew and Andréa Walters bow their heads and walk solemnly from the site.My heart ached for them, for they had loved and supported Shelly throughout her entire life and thought there was no finer child anywhere in the world.

Fred had stopped by earlier, just after the priest had left, and placed the flowers near Shelly's name.He stood by me for a few minutes and he reached over to squeeze my hand.I held his hand for a little while and pretended he was George.

"How are you doing?" he asked after a while.I laughter bitterly, sniffled and then wiped a few tears from my face.

"Not the greatest question to ask at a funeral," I said, looking up at him.He offered a sad smile.

"Sorry," he said softy.I nodded."I really mean it… I am sorry… so, so sorry."At this point, I don't think he was talking to me anymore.He blinked rapidly for a moment, swallowed hard and then pulled his hand out of mine to gently set it on my shoulder."George misses you, you know," he said, voice strong.I dropped my eyes and looked at my shoes.

"Yeah?" I asked, trying not to sound too interested.

"Yeah… I reckon you not coming to visit him any more broke his heart.You've got to be more careful with that heart of his, Anya.You're the only one he ever let hold onto it."

I shook my head and swallowed back tears, once more reminded of me and George's fading friendship, just when I needed it most.Katie had his heart and always would.Bless Fred; his heart was in the right place, but his words were false.

"Maybe he ought to come see me, too, then," I retorted, sounding harsher than I had intended.Fred squeezed my shoulder, and then dropped my hand.

"It'd be awful stupid if the two of let something get in between you like this," he said simply."Both of you have too much pride to admit how much you need each other.See you around."

He began to walk away, but not before I could toss a "Thanks, Freud," over my shoulder.He waved and, with a small wink, Disapparated before my eyes.

I turned to the sound of my name being called and saw a young couple approaching me.I recognized the woman as J'Belle Jubilee (now Richardson), an old Hogwarts friend of mine and Shelly's.I hadn't seen her since Christmas, the last time the three of us were together.She stumbled into my arms and we held each other for a long while, not speaking.

As we held each other, I looked over her shoulder at Daniel, her husband.He was standing awkwardly off to the side, hands in his pockets.He nodded distractedly in my direction with a sympathetic smile as I felt J'Belle pull away from me.I watched as she wiped tears from her own face.

"So this is what it takes to get you to cross the pond, huh?" I asked, an awful attempt at lightening things.J'Belle began to cry harder at this.

"Oh, Anya… Oh, I'm so sorry… I never meant to lose touch.But with the baby and all…" She wiped her cheeks awkwardly with the back of her hand."I'm so sorry."We hugged again, me feeling a deep ache in my chest for my horrible words."That's absolutely no excuse for… for my behavior."

Compared to the way J'Belle second-guessed herself, I looked like Gilderoy Lockhart.The poor thing was so confident and friendly on the outside, but she constantly worried about how she appeared to others.It took Shelly and I years to convince her not to listen to our schoolmates or care what those schmucks thought.

"I'm moving back here to the UK… I can't lose touch with you again," she murmured into my shoulder, voice muffled in my robes.I rubbed J'Belle's back gently; she needed the comfort.And so we stood together, holding each other, mourning the loss of friendship.

***

By the time my second full week of returning to normal life rolled around, I decided to get my real job back.While the money from my inheritances would hold me over for quite some time, I couldn't dodge work forever.I had too quickly thrown away the offer to work at 3W again and decided to ask for my job back.It would take an incredible amount of will to swallow my pride and do it, but I would do it.

I entered 3W cautiously, poking my head inside first.Not a soul, customer or employee.I stepped inside and was nearly knocked off my feet in a wave of nostalgia.It was as though I hadn't set foot in the store in centuries.

I paused in the third aisle, picking up a Parrot Pillow affectionately.Oh, how I'd missed working here.Someone once said that if you enjoy your job, you'd never have to work a day in your life.Well, I'd worked plenty of days in my life, but never here.

I heard the front door open and someone enter, but I didn't take much notice.I heard another door (door to back room, most certainly) open and a pair of voices begin to converse.Finally, I put the soft pillow back of the shelf tenderly and moved to leave the aisle, when I heard a familiar voice… but one I hadn't heard in over a year.

"… and so Lee looked down on his plate and it was sitting _right_ _there_.Isn't that a scream?"It was Alicia Spinnet, an old friend of Angelina's… an old tormentor of mine.I shook my head and tossed the thoughts from my mind.It was just some stupid childhood differences back at Hogwarts.We'd all been kids; too easily hurt and too easily hurting others.

"Stop by for anything in particular or have you not yet gotten over your unrequited love for me?" Fred asked idly.I rolled my eyes and shook my head.He certainly was offhanded in such matters of the heart.

"Oh, _please_," Alicia said with disbelief in her voice."As if my love for _anyone_ could be unrequited."The two laughed and I held back a remark about humility."Actually, I stopped by to see if the rumors were true.Did that Parker girl from Hogwarts really drink and fly?I mean, I know George talked to her sometimes back at school…" My eyes narrowed.Talked to me sometimes?He was my best friend and she knew that damn well.Grr… Alicia had always been my least favorite of the Chasers.

"Yes, something like that happened, but—"

"Wow, never thought someone like Parker would do something like _that_."I considered throwing the Parrot Pillow at her."Finally tipped over the edge, did she?I always knew she was a bit unstable back at Hogwarts, never one for Quidditch, not particularly good at any of her classes…"

"She did well in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures," Fred said quietly.I smiled.Someone had remembered.Alicia sighed.

"Only because Granger helped her.Tell me: does George still take pity on her and let her tag along?"Whereas a comment like this during second year might have sent me into tears, now it made my blood boil.Pity, indeed.I clenched my fists at my side and fell back into naming dragon species to calm myself.

"Pity?I'm sorry if that's all you believe their friendship is about.As a matter of fact, I think you're jealous."

"Jealous?" Alicia laughed incredulously."That's rich.I'm very happy with Lee; you should know that."I dared a glance and saw a skeptical look on her face.Quite pissed, I could tell.

"You _never_ liked having George terribly close to Anya, even back at Hogwarts.You had this _future_ set in your mind that the three Chasers would pair off with the three Jesters."His tone was mocking."You didn't _care_ what happened to the little overlooked common girl.You've _always_ been one to get what you want, but it drove you mad that your little prophecy would be unfulfilled.So you did your best to keep the commoner from wanting to be friends with the Jester, because then he would _always_ have a distraction from the Chaser.Little do you know that the Jester is quite satisfied with his commoner and keeping them _apart_ after the Chaser has already moved on is _just futile._"Fred's last words were harsh and sounded rushed.Poor bloke had no foresight.The brash, sure look on her face had faded and she'd gone distinctly white with disbelief.

"Fred Weasley, I _never_, in all my _life_, tried to—"

"Spinnet, it's not something to be proud of or ashamed of.You were just a kid wanting the best for your good friends without thinking that you were hurting others.Katie and George had something special once; we all know that.But keeping up this resentful facade against Anya because George still has her and not Katie will not help things."

"That's preposterous!They're not even romantically involved and even if they were, it wouldn't last long.Ever since George came to his 'realization,' he's never been in a fully functional relationship.He's always been left unfulfilled because one part of his psyche was left unsatisfied.Either he's ended it or his partner saw the writing on the wall and did the honors on her – or his – own.Katie was what he needed and now that she's gone, there can't _be_ another!"At this, she turned on her heel and stormed out of 3W.

Fred looked after her for a few moments, not saying a word.Finally, he shook his head and sighed.I waited until he turned around to place something on a shelf before taking a few steps to sneak out of the store.I didn't want him to know I'd been there.His voice stopped me.

"You know, my wife is a whole lot better at sneaking around and spying than you are, Anya," he said as he turned around.I paused and gave a nervous smile.

"How long have you known I was there?" I asked.He grinned.

"Depends.How long have you _been_ there?"I rolled my eyes.Typical, typical Fred."Just joking.I only noticed you when you tried to slink out of here like Crookshanks used to sneak in (damn cat).I take it you heard everything?"

"Yeah… don't really care what she thinks either."I shrugged.If what everyone wanted was for George to be forever consumed by Katie's ghost, far be it from me to stop him.

How heartless.

If I'd been a house-elf, I would have run home and shut my ears in the oven.But as I wasn't, I just felt a sick feeling of guilt in the pit of my stomach.

"What'd you stop by for?More confessions of unrequited love?"He wiggled his eyebrows and I had to roll my eyes a second time.

"But of course."We allowed ourselves a good laugh before sobering."Actually…" My voice began to sound sheepish and my nerve was beginning to fail me."I came to ask for my old job back."I chewed my lower lip nervously, awaiting the verdict.

"It's yours, of course.We've gone through three other girls in two weeks.None of them could figure out the way you organized things."

"I do have my own system, don't I?" I said with a bit of a chuckle.It may have looked like a mess to others, but I knew precisely where everything was."Seriously, though, thank you.I really appreciate it, especially since I've been a bit… er… less than sociable with you recently."Fred waved it off.

"No big deal.But the question is, are you and George going to behave as though you each found out the other had a crush on you?"He said this in a half-mocking tone, but I knew in that moment, that George had told him everything."And yes, he told me everything, Anya," he said, reading my thoughts."I'm not going to get involved or tell anyone what they did was right or wrong.Things happen at their own pace.So what if it took you and George a bit longer than most?You _are_ dealing with the more daft of the famous Weasley pair."Bit longer for what?To screw up a friendship entirely too early?Or to initiate a relationship entirely too late?

Of course it wasn't the latter.I'd done nothing to initiate a romantic relationship.I had only made an advancement to shag him to shut out the rest of the world.Now, after lots of thought, is when I wanted to give the relationship a try.Then, I had just wanted a quick solution to make the world go away.Fred, apparently, could tell it was bothering me, so he quickly changed the subject.

"Can you come in tomorrow morning?I want to run a few ideas past George and I need you to pull a few files for me."I nodded.If George was at work the next day, then fine.I'd cross the bridge when I got there.If not, that was fine, too.

"Sure," I smiled."Well, I've got a long walk home, so I ought to get going.Thanks again, Fred."

***

As I closed the door behind me, I felt a sort of sense of relief.No more nonsense and practically hiding from George.What would come would come and I would meet it when it did.

I put out Stevie's water dish and sank into the large pouf in my living room.I looked across the room to see my father's picture on the mantle.I remembered his echoing voice from the hospital and wondered if he truly had visited me.While he and Mum had never formally become ghosts, a lot of theories circled around that the dead were always with us.

In those moments, I missed my father more than anything in the world.He'd been my rock, the one strong place I could always count on.I liked to think I was strong for him, too, just before he passed.Before I knew it, I was being sucked into my own memory.

I picked up my father's weak hand and placed it in my own.It was amazing.I had always been the one to go to him for strength.But to see my protector, the one man who'd loved me even when I spit peas in his shoes, looking so terribly weak, terrified me.I cleared my throat and began to speak."If… if it's too hard… you can let go.I won't… I can't… I can't blame you for that."I paused and sniffled back tears."Say hi to Mum for me?"

_ _

_My father's comforting blue eyes opened a little and he gave me a sleepy smile.It broke my heart to see him take such effort to move the muscles in his face.If I thought for even a moment that he'd listen to me, I'd've told him to save his strength.His lips parted and from between them flowed the deep sound of his voice, "Say it to her yourself… she's standing over in the doorway."_

With a terrible ache in my stomach, I turned around and looked in the doorway.How silly of me, of course no one was there.I looked back down at my father, whose eyes were still trained in the corner of the tiny hospital room.

_ _

_"Daddy, there's no one there," I said softly.He didn't seem to hear me; he just continued to sustain the tiny smile on his face._

"Oh, Anya, your mother is so beautiful… so much like you." He reached up a very weak hand a swept a lock of hair behind my ear.I whispered for him to rest and gently laid my opposite hand over his.His facial expression suddenly changed, and I could tell he was hurting and didn't want my to know.For the thousandth time, I damned the doctors that were unable to treat his heart condition."Time for me to go, princess.I'll be there when you get married.Both of us will."

My lower lip quivered and tears filled my eyes.I wasn't ready to let go of him yet.I was only twenty-two, for Merlin's sake.I was barely more than a child.But more than thinking of myself, I knew he needed me to be strong in his final minutes.

"I'm not getting married, remember?" I reminded him, in a light, teasing tone."I'm going to live in a big house on the end of a block with a hundred cats."It was an old joke that I was to grow up and be a spinster, after Daddy had made fun of the way I slurped spaghetti when I ate.He told me no one would ever marry me if I ate like that.

Daddy shook his head at this, though."Don't be silly, princess.Someone's going to fall in love with you and you're going to fall in love with him and you'll live happily ever after; I just know it."Apparently, he didn't remember the joke as fondly as I had."How about that nice George boy you're always running around with?Don't worry – when I get up there, I'll pull some strings, all right?"He winked sleepily and despite my worry, I blushed.My father suggested I date him at least twice a day.He didn't understand that what George and I had was special, not to be complicated with romantic nonsense.But I couldn't honestly tell him right then and there that the thought hadn't crossed my mind.

"Okay, Daddy.But for now, just rest.I love you."It was important he heard me say those three words.It was not time to argue about my future.I had to make my father's last moments as peaceful as possible, though I wanted him to stay more than anything in the world.I also knew it was far too hard for him to hang on much longer.He had selflessly held on this long for only my sake.

_"I love you, too, princess."He ran his finger along my cheek affectionately, looking very proud of me for some reason.I gently tucked the covers in around him._

_ _

_"Goodbye, father," I said through tears.So maybe my no-crying streak hadn't been a solid eight years.I wiped tears from my eyes, and kissed his forehead softly as his eyes slipped shut.I rested my head very gently against his chest, not moving until the recurring beep became an endless stream of sound._

"So what happened to us?"I was so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn't realized I was no longer alone in the kitchen.I leapt from the table, wand in hand.I pointed it with a shaking hand at the man who dared intrude into my house.

George.

Figured.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked in a high-pitched voice that was not my own.George stared goggle-eyed at me, eyes trained on my wand.I snorted and tossed it on the table. My adrenaline levels slowly receded and I sighed."Don't look at me like that; I'm not going to hex you."

George frowned and sighed himself.His shoulders sank and he looked a whole lot older than the last time I'd seen him.Of course, that was impossible; it'd only been three weeks.Three weeks that had seemed like an eternity.

"Anya…" he began in a pleading tone._No, no, no, stop that!_I was supposed to be independent and self-sufficient and strong all on my own, but my heart ached at the simple sound of his voice.So I decided to answer his question.

"'Us?'There never was an 'us,' George.It's always been the prankster and the little girl he took pity on.Everyone knows it now, so you can stop pretending."The words sounded harsher than intended, but it was the truth. Okay, maybe it wasn't the truth, but Alicia's words still stung.

George took a step forward and put his hands on my upper arms, as though trying to get me to focus on him.I tried not to melt against his warm, safe touch, but it was very hard.He was watching me carefully with his blue eyes as he spoke in a whisper, "Little girl… pity… pretending?Anya, what's wrong with you?Who has been telling you these things?"He was looking at me as though I was the only person in the world… as though he was intent on making me understand something.

"You left me by myself just like everyone else," I said, voice shaking."Go on then!I don't care anymore!" 

George shook his head slowly. "I don't believe that."His touch didn't waver and I dropped my chin down my chest, unable to look into his eyes any longer.He moved one hand and put a finger under my chin, forcing me to look up at him."I'm here now, aren't I?"

"George—" I began, but he dropped his arms and cut me off.

"You know, visiting works both ways, Anya!"Angry wasn't the word to describe his voice.Desperate.

"Doctor's orders say I can't Apparate for another two weeks and my broomstick license is suspended for the next three years."It wasn't an excuse at all.I'd walked to Hogsmeade to go to 3W and his home wasn't terribly far.I could even have used Floo powder.

"There's an old fashioned thing called 'walking,' you know."I threw my arms down at my sides in frustration.

"I just want to give up… move far away and become a Muggle or something.I've got nothing left holding me here."George stepped closer to me again, shaking his head slowly.There was very little room left between us and my heart began to beat just a little bit faster.

"You've got me.And I need you here, too."Again, the desperation was present in his voice.But he'd said the words I'd longed to hear.He _needed_ me.For what?And why had he waited so long to return to me?

"What, you can't fill the position of record-keeper?"The words left my mouth before I knew what I was saying.

He shook me, as though trying to get some sense into me, but not hard enough to hurt.He wasn't even holding my arms tightly, but I still felt safe.Safe, safe, safe.It was ridiculous, really."Stop it."

"You never needed me before."And all at once, I felt his lips pressed roughly against mine.Before I could properly reciprocate or even know what was happening, he'd pulled away and locked eyes with mine.

He began to speak, words coming out in a rush, as though it was the most important thing I know what was going on in his head. "Anya, I've always needed you.Since day one, when Snape paired us together in Potions and I didn't know how to make a Hair Growing Potion and you told me to put the pixie dust in… I have _always needed you_."Our faces were very close and I wondered idly if he was going to kiss me again or if I would have to initiate it myself.

All at once, I remembered him pulling away from my kiss not more than a month ago.I remembered him making a half-arsed excuse.I remembered the hollow click as the door closed behind him.He needed me because he needed an outlet for his problems, a source of advice.But he didn't want me like I wanted to be wanted.

"Then why didn't you… you may need me but you don't want me."I turned my face away.Oh, if that was all it took to make the tension in the room dissipate.

"That's not true.Anya, I didn't leave because I didn't want you.I left because… because I can't give what I want for you.I can't promise that life will be perfect.I want you to be happy… I'm just afraid I won't be able to give that to you."I looked back up at him and raised a hand to gently touch his cheek.The expression on his face made me think he was utterly amazed at my touch and that it was the first time he felt it.

"I can't promise 'happily ever after' either," I whispered."But I can promise 'one day at a time.'I can't keep living like this, not knowing."And I couldn't.I'd missed him so badly even if I was pretending to be okay without him.While I _could_ live without him, I didn't want to.

I tilted my head very slowly against his and soon our lips were pressed firmly together, no hesitation from either end.I tangled my fingers in his hair and his arms slid slowly around my waist.His touch was soft and firm at the same time.He smelled of the common room at night – an achingly intoxicating mix of both safety and danger.I felt my hands go to the front fastenings of his robes.I drew away slowly; I needed to look into his eyes and make sure this is what he wanted, too.

In his eyes was nothing but need.Need for me, need for my touch, didn't matter.It was me.I wasn't insane.

** **

My lips were nearly brushing against his as I spoke quickly, heart pounding."I want to know everything about you, George.I want to know what you taste like, what you look like, what you smell like.I want everything about you to fill my senses.I want to know your highs, your lows, your in-betweens.There's part of you that you've shut off to me, to everyone.I want to know those secrets and I don't want to have any secrets from you."

I suppose he had to be sure of me, too, when he said, "You… you want _me_, then?"

I spoke a bit more slowly this time, making sure he heard and understood every word."When I say that I want you, George, I mean it in every sense of the word... even adding meaning where there was none before.There is so much in my life that hasn't made sense.But you make sense, George... and so does this." 

And after that, there was no further need for speech.

To be continued…

Reviewer Thanks: **magical*little*me** (Er… maybe?::cringes::Well, George is happy now, isn't he?He's got his Anya back and… and… ::hides::Oh, goodness.), **AngieJ** (Gotta love Mo, don't you?And yeah, I'd say there's just a wee bit of G/A tension.), **Juliette** (I know, I know.After I killed Shelly off, I really regretted it, but it had to be done.At least George and Anya got to kiss again, right?), **Madhuri** (Thank you for recognizing Anya so honorably.She's the OC I've put the most effort into creating.I tried to give her pluses and faults.Hopefully, I did well?), **Moriel** (::frowns::Go take a nap if you're so sleepy!), ~***Ginny***~ (Eek, what a long review.To be very JKRish: Well spotted.I hope you're not committed to St. Mungo's yet!), **Jodie** (Aw, shucks.Thanks!), **Julius** (Woo hoo!See, that's what I get for praying to the Clarity Writing Gods!), **Sreya** (Yes, 5 was a sad chapter.Hopefully, this one was better?), **Ashlie** ("seal the deal" eh?That's a new way of putting it? ::winks::I hope you weren't too offended that your cameo was terrible, but she did get the job done, no?), **Quidditch** (GO LES MIS!And what was George doing in the bathtub?Playing with a rubber ducky, of course.), **Gryffindor** (Hey, I'm lazy too – don't feel bad.), **Sheryll** (Because I'm an awful, horrible, terrible person. ::innocent grin:: ), **Coriann** (::crying and cringing::Yes, yes, you are!), **Hydy** (Yes, 5 was rather delusional, wasn't it?), **Sweetfires** (What do YOU think?), **Viola** (::mouth opens and closes soundlessly::The… THE Viola?The Dreamwalk Blue Viola?? ::becomes very self-conscious::I hope you're enjoying the story.Does Anya seem less needy in this chapter?I really tried to take your suggestion to heart and I hope I've not failed you.), **Nosilla** (See what happens to alcoholics?Bad, bad things.), **DK** (::hands DK some glue remover::Sorry 'bout that.), **gumdrop** (Five reviews in one sitting?I'm impressed!I did like the Anya/Harry scene, too, and was glad someone else enjoyed it.), **Colette** (Thank you!I know the beginning scene was rather sad, but I'm not nearly as good as Eb is in characterizing, so a flashback should have sufficed.), **Leap** (Yep, and Anya paid the consequences.Three years with no broomstick – ouch.Glad to hear you think Anya's human.), and **Simon 'Dr.' Branford **(Like your cameo?How many fics is that now?Twenty?And I didn't complain – just… er… reminded you.)

   [1]: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HP_Paradise



	7. Shadows of the Past

Not Quite Paradise

**Author: **George Weasley's Girlfriend

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**Title:** Not Quite Paradise

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**Rating: **PG-13

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**Disclaimers: **Anything created by Ms. J. K. Rowling belongs to her; everything else, to me.****

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**Summary:** In early 2004, Voldemort has been defeated and the wizarding world is carrying on peacefully… or so it seems.Secrets, lies and dark pasts hold the key to the friendships built on years of trust.Will the friendships crumble under the pressure or carry the weight?****

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**A/N:** See previous chapters.Huge thanks to my betas: Ebony (who is thoroughly enjoying England), John (aka Crazy Ivan), Lady Christina, Virgo (who wuvs me lots), JM Robin and Pippin (whose invaluable advice made this fic a worthwhile read).Also introducing Colin and Sue!Remember to check out the [HP_Paradise][1] list if you want to discuss or read the incoming chapters before (or after!) they're posted to ff.net.Thanks everyone!

Not Quite Paradise

_"We were strangers, starting out on a journey,_

_Never dreaming what we had to go through._

_Now here we are and I'm suddenly standing,_

_At the beginning with you."_

--_At the Beginning_

Chapter Seven Shadows of the Past 

Shelly had once told me bisexual men were great in bed, but I didn't think _anything_ could ever feel like _that_.

George had fallen asleep with his arms around me and his head resting very softly against my shoulder.His hair tickled my throat.My arms were wound around him, too, and I got a pleasant comfort I had never been afforded before: _I_ got to hold _him_.
    
    Other lovers I'd had always held me in their sleep, always wanting to be the strong, romance novel paradigm of masculinity.Sure, it was nice to be warm and held, but holding someone else was just about as nice.
    
     

Sighing softly, I felt sleep tugging at the corners of my eyes and I leaned in towards George, turning him over so that I could rest my head against his chest and sleep soundly in the shelter of his embrace.Regardless of our confidences that things would be taken slowly and that things would work, we had a whole lot to talk about in the morning.Might as well get a few hours of uncomplicated bliss while I had the chance.With a muffled "mmph," he drew his arms around me and let his head fall lopsidedly onto to the pillow.I tilted my head to give him a gentle kiss goodnight, but something caught my eye.

A crescent-shaped scar – like a half moon – fell into the shaft of moonlight coming through my window.Curiosity winning over sleepiness, I raised myself up on an elbow and peered closer.The scar was old, probably from his childhood, and was about three centimeters long.It rested just below the clavicle.I hadn't noticed it earlier because other issues had been far more pressing at the time George's bare shoulder had been revealed.

I reached out an inquisitive hand and brushed my fingers gently across the scar.As my fingertips touched the soft tissue, I felt a yank behind my navel and the world around me dissolved.

_"I'd love to go to Hogsmeade with you, George," a soft voice says.Music to my ears!It's all I can do not to scoop her up in my arms and spin her around.The Gryffindor common room dissolves into the setting around me and I can see I'm standing with her at the bottom of the staircase leading up to the girls' dormitories.She's smiling at me with her pink lips and bright blue eyes.Her blonde hair looks so soft around her face.I can't help but return the smile._

_ _

_"Cool," is all I can make myself say.Just then, another female voice (Angelina?) calls for Katie.She smiles politely and steps around me._

_ _

_"See you later," she says quietly.My heart is racing.If this is what being in love feels like, I want more of it.It takes me a moment or two to shake myself out of the mild euphoria, but I finally turn and race for my twin, who's lounging in a pouf near the fireplace._

_ _

_"She said yes!" I collapse haphazardly on the floor before him, a broad grin on my face."Wow… a date with Katie Bell.Katie _Bell_.Even her name sounds like… like…"_

_ _

_"A bell?" Fred supplies with a cheesy grin.I can't help but laugh._

_ _

_"Yeah, something like that.Are you going with Angelina next weekend?If you are, all four of us could go together.Oh, but wait – what if she expects it to be just the two of us alone?What if she changes her mind?"Fred only laughs at me._

_ _

_"I don't know how Anya puts up with you when you're like this."Anya!She'd know what to do – she always did._

_ _

_"She's got more patience than a packet of ketchup, that's why," I retort.Brotherly affection, you had to love it.I look around the common room, but she isn't there and she hadn't passed me when I was talking to Katie."Do you know where she is?"_

_ _

_"I thought I saw her go out the portrait hole, actually." _

_ _

_"Thanks, Fred," I say, and bound for the portrait hole.I am still a bit giddy; I'm going on a date with Katie Bell!I climb through the hole and land in the corridor, still smiling.With a nifty sidestep I bump the portrait closed._

_ _

_"Indeed, Mr. Weasley," the Fat Lady says, clinging to the frame in surprise.She looks ruffled as she fixes her hairpiece._

_ _

_"Sorry about that," I laugh.I'd love to race down the hallway, whooping and hollering._

_ _

_"What is it you're so excited about, young man? Honestly, I'll never understand the way children's minds work.One minute one of them is worried and looking for things that aren't there and another minute, one pops out with the energy of a hyperactive five year old."She shakes her head briefly."It never ceases to amaze me."I blink a few times.Anya came out just before me…looking for things that aren't there?_

_ _

_"The girl who came out before me – which way did she go?"_

_ _

_"Down that way," the Fat Lady says, pointing to the left, towards the stairs that lead up to the Charms corridor."It was as though she was looking for something that she couldn't see… I had to go visit Mona over in the Defense Against the Dark Arts hallway – you wouldn't believe what Sir Cadogan and his pony were doing - but I did see her just wander up the stairs."I nod slowly.Did I offend her by wanting to talk to Katie?No, Anya knowsme better than that.I can't wait to tell her Katie is going to Hogsmeade with me.I take the stairs two at a time and finally reach the landing._

_ _

_I just about turn a corner when I hear a voice that makes my blood freeze in my veins.It is the sheer ominous tone of the voice rather than any semblance of familiarity._

_ _

_"You never were bright.Pity, pity," the voice hisses.I'm trembling, my stomach in knots as I take a step forward and peer around the corner.I remain frozen as I see Anya standing before a hooded figure, wand outstretched._Do something! _my mind screams."Respori—"_

_ _

_I unfreeze and leap forward, screaming, "NO!" drowning out the rest of the spell.A blue light shoots out of the tip of the hooded figure's wand, but I'd distracted him or her just enough for the arm to turn and the light misses Anya. The glowing ball ricochets off a suit of armor and skims in a curve on my shoulder._

_ _

_Pain._

_ _

_Pain like I have never known before.I clutch at my shoulder and double over, my head up just long enough to see the blue light strike Anya directly in the back.She turns slightly, brown eyes wide, and I see them roll back in her head as she slumps to the ground, seizing._

_ _

_"Anya, no," I gasp, the pain in my shoulder almost driving me to my knees.The hooded figure is gone, leaving only rapid footsteps in its wake.Finally, Anya lies still, eyes closed.The only thing keeping me from passing out right there from the pain is that I know I need to get to her.She needs me._

_ _

_Finally, it's too much.I collapse to my knees at her side and put a hand on each of her shoulders.It takes a moment for me to catch my breath and clear my vision, but I manage to do it.I shake her, muttering her name._

_ _

_"Anya, wake up…Oh, Merlin…just wake up…this is all my fault…should have done something sooner…" I can't help her here and I certainly am not going to drag her back to the common room to get my wand and try some rather pathetic first aid magic.I take a few deep breaths, preparing to ignore my shoulder.That isn't important now.Anya is.I see a pool of blood beginning to form around her head and my heart rate doubles._

_ _

_I slide my arms beneath her slender frame and lift her.White-hot agony tears through my shoulder and I slump against the wall.Can't drop her.Have to hold her.Have to get her help.Anya, I'm so sorry. Should have stopped it.Stay with me.Can't lose you.I grit my teeth and strengthen my resolve._

_ _

_Agonizingly slowly, I stagger down the hallway.I must look quite a sight, robes torn open at the shoulder, holding a bleeding girl in my arms.She's so small, but she seems to weigh more and more with each step.My vision is darkening and…_

_ _

… I pulled out of the dream.I was breathing heavily as I slowly moved my hand from George's shoulder.I had just been inside his head, in his mind, in his _memory_.George was tossing and turning, muttering little bits of sentences.
    
     

"Going to get you help… Anya, I promise…so sorry… Should've…" There were tears on his face as he held me to him and I pulled away from him gently.

"George… George, wake up," I said softly, shaking him.His hands reached up and grabbed my upper arms as his eyes snapped open.His eyes looked side to side for a few moments, as though he was completely confused as to where he was."I'm here; it's okay," I whispered.He finally seemed to understand then, where he was and why he was there.He wrapped his arms around me again and held me against his chest, shivering.

"I… I'm sorry… didn't mean to wake you up…" he murmured into my hair."I just had a bad dream, that's all."He kissed my bare shoulder very softly and I could feel a tear fall against my skin.I pulled away just enough to be able to look at him in the eye.

"I know you did," I said softly, sweeping a lock of hair from his face.He still looked upset and I nestled my head in the hollow of his shoulder, closing my eyes.His arms circled me again; it was exactly what he needed.

"I love you, you know," he said in a broken voice.I wiped the tears gently from his face, as he'd always done for me."You have to know."

"I do know," I whispered."I love you, too."I let out a slow breath and felt George kiss the top of my head very softly just before drifting off to sleep.

***

"No… stupid cat… get away!Come on!Let her sleep, you dumb feline!Leave her alone," George's voice greeted me as I awakened, still in his embrace."Stevie, get out of here.You always get to be with her.My turn."I felt one of his arms move, then the sound of something soft being hit.There was a hiss and the swipe of a paw, followed by a sharp yelp by George.

"Mm?" I slurred out, opening my eyes lazily.George was half-sitting up, holding one bleeding hand and glaring at my cat's retreating figure."What happened?" I muttered.I looked at his hand and gasped; Stevie certainly had given George a good swipe but ther were only a few drops of blood.

"Oh, George," I whispered.I leaned over him and pulled my spare wand out of the drawer in the nightstand next to my bed (I'd lost my first wand a few years back and bought a new one only to find my original wand the moment I got home from Ollivander's).I lifted his hand gently in mine and healed the wound with a whispered spell, then cleaned up the blood."Are you all right?" I murmured, drawing my eyes to his.

He nodded slowly with somber eyes."I'm more than all right."He reached up and touched the side of my face with his fingertips.It was a nice, soft feeling.I felt a little giddy, actually.It was amazing how natural he was behaving, despite the fact that our relationship had changed so dramatically.

"You really have that much faith in this, don't you?" I said slowly.He nodded again and I covered his hand with mine.I instinctively rested my head on his shoulder as his arm traveled around my waist.I couldn't get over how real, how natural this was, how right it felt.

"Why do you think we waited so long?" I whispered."I know this thought has crossed my mind before and I'd like to think it's crossed yours…"

"It has," he said quickly, but not with any trace of untruth."I think it's probably because we thought we would always have tomorrow to find out."

I dropped my eyes.Tomorrow.Something Shelly didn't have.Something I almost didn't have.

"And now we know…"

"…We won't," George finished.We looked at each other and kissed very softly."I'm so sorry I left you.Twice."

"I was being unreasonable both times."

"It was still inexcusable. You've never left me no matter how awful I was to you."

"All I know is you've never treated me badly, never given me a reason to _want_ to leave you."He gave me a sideways smile.I turned over upon him and slid my arms around his neck.I liked getting used to our new intimacy."Except for the time you stole my Skeedoodle and tried to feed it to Errol.You deserved to be left for _that_ one."

His eyes opened wide with innocence.

"It wasn't me!It was Fred; I swear it."I arched an eyebrow. I'd caught him red-handed in the Owlery during third year when he'd tried to do it.

"You great big lying prat, I saw you do it!"Of course, George wouldn't stand for such slanderous words, so he began to tickle me until we were both thoroughly tangled up in my sheets, gasping for air."Just… cause… you… can… tickle… better… doesn't… mean… you… didn't—" I squealed as he began to tickle me again.Finally I collapsed against his bare chest and cried out for a truce.

The two of us lay there for some time, listening to each other breathe, each other's heartbeats.George ran his fingers very slowly through my hair and hummed some tune that I was familiar with but couldn't place.He dropped his chin and nuzzled the inside of my neck very softly.

"I'm hungry," I said after a moment.I looked up at him."You?"

"Orange juice.I have a strange craving for orange juice."I giggled; just like George to have an odd fetish besides Chocolate Covered Mangoes.I wiggled out of his arms and grabbed my robes that were lying on the floor.

"Back in a minute then."I slid out from under the covers and put the robes on all in one fluid motion.I cast a look back at George, who looked rather silly with red hair against light orange pillows and beneath blue sheets that had yellow stripes.He smiled sleepily.

"You're beautiful, you know," he said softly.But, being George, he added, "Even with clothes."I rolled my eyes at him and slipped out the door, smiling to myself.I still had a goofy grin on my face as I opened my refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice.Stretching up on my tiptoes, I got two glasses out of the cupboard and set everything on the counter before me.

I heard a door open and close from somewhere outside the kitchen and smirked.George never had been patient.I listened to the heavy footfalls as he entered the kitchen.I continued to pretend not to notice as hands covered my eyes.

"Guess who," a voice whispered, sounding terribly mischievous.Without answering, I spun around and pressed my lips to those of the man behind me.For a moment, the kiss went one way, most likely out of sheer surprise, but then ended.I opened my eyes and George stood before me, looking terribly bewildered."Anya, I… I can't... what're you…?"

Something was off.I frowned slightly, and then gasped and raised a hand to my mouth as George Number Two appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing ruffled robes and holding a hand in his messy hair.

"You… but… you… Fred?!"George Number One – Fred, actually – looked between the two of us with some sort of stunned amazement.Oh, Merlin's ghost, I'd just snogged Fred."Fred, _what_ the hell are you doing?"

"What's going on in here?" George Number Two – the real George – asked.He looked just as confused.

"I thought… um… you were… uh… him," I said in a little voice.I'd just slept with the man and now I couldn't tell him from his own brother.Great wizards, how insulting.Fred's confusion was fading and his mouth began to curve a little at the edges.
    
     

"Let me guess," Fred said, trying his damnedest to hide a grin, "'this isn't what it looks like.'"I blushed harder, if possible, as the smile finally broke through and I couldn't help but notice how please Fred looked with himself.George, undaunted, crossed the room and slid an arm around my waist.

"Actually," George said casually, "this is _exactly_ what it looks like."He turned and gave me a kiss that took my breath away.I blinked a few times in dizziness as he righted me and arched an eyebrow at his brother.My face must have been dragon heartstring red.

"I came here because you were late to work," Fred said to me, looking positively beside himself."George hadn't shown up either, but the he's always late." George snorted at this."I knocked, but apparently you didn't hear me.You must have been… ah… wrapped up in other things."His grin had – if possible – broadened.The smarmy git was getting a perverse pleasure out of putting me on the spot."So…" he began idly, "How long's this been going on?"

"Years," George said before I got a chance to respond."Since the Hogwarts Express on the way to first year.Couldn't keep my eyes off her."I laughed a little and the tension in the room began to disperse."Eh, last night… fifteen years ago… really, what is the difference?"

"Fourteen years and three hundred and sixty four days, actually," Fred answered, not missing a beat.Their banter was cute at times, twinged with anger and cutting sarcasm at others, but this was a bit unnerving.

"I… um, I'm sorry I'm late," I apologized to Fred, chewing on my lower lip.He still looked as though the Christmas holidays had come early.

"No, that's fine.I was just… heh… wondering where you were.How about you start tomorrow then?"I nodded a little sheepishly and he rounded on his brother."You, I need in the store today.So finish…whatever it was you were doing…and get back to 3W."Fred winked and Disapparated without another word.

"I've never been so embarrassed before in my life," I groaned, burying my face against George's chest. He laughed and put his arms around me."I can't believe it.What is it with the two of you sneaking into my house?Do you get some sort of kick out of it?"

"It's great fun," he assured me.I stepped back but remained in his arms.He pressed his forehead against mine, eyes closed."This is going to get complicated, isn't it?" he sighed.I nodded.It was bound to come up sooner or later anyway."Tell you what: one step at a time."

"I'd say last night was one giant leap," I giggled softly and he opened his eyes.

"Enjoyed yourself that much, huh?"

"I'm still tingling."His smiling eyes studied me for a moment.

"I've never felt like anything like it myself."He paused and smiled."My, Miss Parker, you are a very attractive shade of red."I giggled again and pressed myself against him.The man could make me smile and blush with a look or a word.

"If you don't leave for work now, I'm afraid you're not leaving at all today."He grinned devilishly.

"Promise?"I ruffled his hair and laughed when he batted my hand away.

"Fred would be awful angry with me if I kept you from the shop."

Exasperation crept into his voice when he replied, "He's not my keeper, you know."I touched his face softly to calm him.It seemed to work.

"I know; I was just teasing."He relaxed visibly and smiled again.Without warning, he darted forward and kissed me."I'll stop by for lunch.We can have the obligatory deep, meaningful, complicate-everything discussion then."

"What makes you so sure I'm going to fix you lunch?" I asked with an arched eyebrow.

"You _are_ lunch," he grinned.He kissed me again, this time longer.

"I'll owl out for pizza." His smile didn't fade."See you later then."One more kiss, a barely audible pop, and I was alone again.

***

After having a ridiculously late breakfast, I went into my tiny backyard with my wand and knelt before my garden.I'd always had a garden no matter where I lived and some of my first memories were of watching my mother garden and wanting to help.I'd revived the old hobby in recent weeks when I'd had a few minutes free.

Most of the time, it was a wonderful distraction.One could easily get lost in the bursts of color and sprouts of new life.I'd been pretty decent in Herbology because I had been a patient student.Above anything else, Herbology required patience.Being magical meant instant gratification and easily developed impatience.Plants, no matter how magical, still worked on far slower clocks.One had to care for the seed and nurture it.It must be fed and watered and kept where lots of sun could get to it.

It was an easy thing to get lost in, but the thoughts swirling through my mind were just too much.I set my wand down and stretched out on the sun-warmed grass.I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of the fragrant garden.

Between my release from Paracelsus and George's arrival the previous night, a lot of me had changed.I'd taken up gardening and expanded farther into my interest in Magical Creatures.I'd never realized what a gigantic world it was.For so long, my life had consisted of waking up, going to work, having the occasional date, and returning home to an empty house.

It took what I thought the worst thing that could ever happen – losing George – to open my eyes.As much as I missed him, and it hurt like a constant stomachache, it was something I had to go through.When Shelly had been an aspiring writer in her Hogwarts days, she always wrote fantastic love stories with the standard neglected princess and dashing knight.But she always made sure the princess wasn't a damsel in distress.She told me that the princess "could always make it on her own without her hero, but by Merlin, she would never _want_ to."

We'd dissolved into giggles at this, but now her words haunted me.They'd been proven true in the last few weeks.I could live without George in my life, but by Merlin, I would never want to.Playing damsel in distress only irked those around me and got tiring after a while.

I turned over onto my side and played with the soft grass.George would be back soon, wanting to over complicate everything.Well, it wasn't that he wanted to make things difficult; it was that he overanalyzed situations and found tribulations where there were none.I wanted to go by our word: one step at a time.We would have our fair share of troubles and awkward moments, and we'd probably get into a few good rows, but things like that had never destroyed our friendship.Why should they destroy a romantic relationship? 

_Maybe it was just a fluke.Maybe he came over because he just needs an emotional outlet.You made the first move_, my mind taunted.It wasn't fair the way my mind was so insecure.I thought I'd left that Anya behind.

I must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing I remembered was something small skittering past my head, and then a very sharp pain in my nose.I snapped my eyes open to see a pair of very small, but very sad brown eyes staring directly into mine.I gasped and sat up quickly, only to see the tail end of an Augurey disappear into my rosebushes.

The tiny bird peered at me from between the thorn branches, brown eyes wide.The poor thing looked so droopy, but I then remembered that all Auguries had a bit of a weepy look to them.Without breaking its gaze from mine, it fluffed its brown and green feathers.I smiled.

"It's okay, little bird.I didn't mean to startle you."I rubbed my nose tenderly and was relieved to find no blood.It let out a long, mournful cry and I shivered involuntarily.For a long time, it had been believed that an Augurey cry was fatal, but later research proved that it merely foretold a rainstorm.The bird squawked and then scampered through the bushes until I couldn't see it anymore.

I smiled and stood, turning to go back in the house and then paused and looked back over at my old hammock, half covered with the blanket Shelly had given me a few years ago.It had been ages since I had just lain there, listening to songbirds.With a small smile, I circled the garden and slid onto the hammock with a soft sigh.The sun was warm, but the ground had been chilly, so I pulled the blanket over myself and closed my eyes.I had a few moments of uninterrupted bliss until a deep male voice jarred me from my pleasant state.

"You're not asleep, are you?"I opened my eyes and looked up at George.He was smiling down at me uneasily.

"Not anymore," I yawned, sitting up carefully.I'd flipped out of the hammock far too many times to move quickly while in it.He relaxed and sat by my side.With a little smile, he brushed a lock of hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear.

"Ready for the deep, meaningful over-complicate-everything discussion?" he asked with a smirk.I shook my head and he frowned.

"George," I began, taking one of his hands, "we don't need to look for the profound answer to why it took us so long to realize we ought to be together.There's no pressing demand for us to be mushy and melodramatic.What it all boils down to is that I love you and want to keep you in my life."I ended my little speech and realized that it was far mushier and melodramatic than we could have come up with during a philosophical exchange.

"And I love you, too, but we can't jump into this blindfolded—"

"Well, why not?" I cried in exasperation."Other couples do.You've been on a blind date before as have I.But we've got an advantage.We know each other inside and out – no need to get involved with messy pasts.I know all your dirty secrets anyway," I grinned.

George returned the grin and leaned very close to my ear."Not all of them," he said in a low voice.A shiver ran up my spine, one of the good kinds."Not all the fun ones, at any rate."I giggled as he pressed his lips very softly to my ear.

"Do tell," I whispered."Come, join me."I pulled aside the blankets and he wedged himself into the hammock beside me.Our legs tangled together beneath the blanket and I pillowed my head on his chest.After a few moments of peace, I decided to make trouble.

I moved off George and raised myself on an elbow beside him.

"So tell me about these secrets," I chided, touching the side of his face softly.He grinned and nipped at the tip of my finger, which I yanked away with a yelp.

"Serves you right," he said smugly.He paused a moment and then looked over at me with curiosity."Have you ever made love in a hammock?"

***

I caught heat for the next three days from Fred for making George late back to work. Other than that, life returned to normal.

Angelina was within days of her due date, so Fred spent a lot of time away from the store to be with her.George told him that he was being ridiculous; she would send an owl at the first signs the baby was coming.

Fred wouldn't have it.The poor man was completely and totally irrational when it came to his wife's health.I suppose his nervousness stemmed from her illness back in January.She'd just barely come out of that ordeal with her life.Now Fred was spending every waking moment with her, only stopping by the shop to check on things.

He seemed wary of leaving us alone together, but I reassured him, telling him we would be very professional while working.After all, he could trust me.

George, on the other hand, had very different ideas.He would wait until I was fixing the plants in the windows ("You can make those grow just looking at them, love," George would always say) and then whisper "Boo!" very loudly into my ear.I'd gasp and spin around to face him, gullible every time.

"You're horrible," I murmured as he rested his hands very gently at my waist.He kissed the side of my neck very softly."This is highly unprofessional."

"I can think of loads of unprofessional things to do," he chuckled in my ear."Each more fun than the last…"

It would never really get any farther than that and certainly not even that advanced if there was a customer in the shop.Just the same, it was a bit odd to see him all day and then date him at night.Perhaps I was overdosing on my time with him and while it was wonderful at first, I foresaw problems.

"Maybe I should get a job somewhere else," I suggested to him as he handed me a package of Canary Creams to put on the shelf.We'd closed an hour earlier and were almost finished restocking the backroom.He paused and held the next box in midair.

"You're not happy here?" he frowned.I plucked the box out of his hand, shaking my head.

"I'm happy working here.It's the best job I've ever had and you _know_ that, George.It's just…" I stepped down from the ladder and stood at his side, looking up into his confused blue eyes.I tried a different approach."I'd rather not mix business with pleasure.I'm afraid we'll see each other so much that we'll get sick of each other and become irritable and snap at each other like Ron and Hermione."George allowed himself a chuckle at this.

"No one snaps like Ron and Hermione.It's like they each already have their comebacks ready before the other speaks… it's sort of amazing in a curiously twisted sort of way."

"Meaning you find the idea fascinating," I giggled.He shrugged and grinned sheepishly.Finally, he heaved a sigh.

"I suppose you're right…but I will miss having you around here.And you've got to promise to stay long enough to teach me that absurd filing system of yours."I poked Mr. Organized in the chest."Ow, hey!"I squealed as he got a mischievous glint in his eye.Before he could do anything, I shelved the box I'd been holding and raced out of the backroom.

I burst through the door and into the dark shop, ducking into aisle two and trying very hard to stop giggling.I heard George's patient footsteps exit the room and close the door slowly.I finally got my giggling under control and peered out from around the corner.George was barely illuminated in the shaft of moonlight from a window and he was glancing around in search of me.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he teased.He dipped his head behind a display to look and I scampered into aisle one, careful not to make a sound.When I turned around to check on him again, he was gone.I looked around, paranoid, but didn't see him anywhere.I stood very slowly, just in front of the display of Parrot Pillows.

"GOTCHA!" a voice shouted.I screamed as a very warm body collided with mine and we went tumbling into the Parrot Pillows, which were far too asleep to squawk in protest.I found myself looking up at a very breathless but very pleased looking George.

"Damn," I whispered between heavy breaths.He'd certainly knocked the wind out of me.

"Remember the last time Fred found us like this… well, not exactly like this… but just the same?" he asked, with a low voice.

"Your point?" I murmured.

"Think the same excuse would work if we were caught this time?"I laughed against the cloth of his robes and pushed him off me.

"Probably not," I told him.I reached a hand down to help him up, but he just pulled me back down to him."Mmph, George…" I began, but his lips silenced me.

"Have you ever made love in a pile of Parrot Pillows?" he asked lewdly, arching one eyebrow.

"No, and I don't intend to," I giggled, standing again."Now get up, Romeo."Reluctantly and looking very put off, George stood and brushed himself off.I looked up at him with wide, brown eyes and took his hands in mine."Walk me home?"

***

On the last day of March, I meandered down Diagon Alley after work, needing both a satchel of Floo powder and a birthday present for George.I'd always liked Hogsmeade better than Diagon Alley.Hogsmeade had more of a small town feeling to it while Diagon Alley reminded me more of one of those seedy Muggle strip malls.But, alas, Hogsmeade was a small town, George had an inquisitive mind and I'd rather his present was a surprise.

I stopped in Dob and Wink's for my Floo powder, waving hello to the house-elf at the front door.Dob and Wink's was a relatively new establishment – the Diagon Alley location, at any rate – and was pretty much one-stop shopping for everything.There had been a lot of public upheaval with its existence in an already stable shopping location and I wouldn't be surprised if there was some sort of fiery confrontation.

After buying the Floo powder (and, I had to guiltily admit to myself, a few other things), I wondered what to get George.I'd always gotten him Zonko's products until Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes opened, in which case it became sacrilegious for me to set foot in the store.After that, it had been odds and ends I'd stumbled across that had a quirky allure to them.George always liked the things I got him – out of politeness or actual delight – but it was tough to come up with new ideas.

I'd basically exhausted all Quidditch-related gear… but more than that I wanted to get him something special.Something different, something one of a kind…

I came to the point where Diagon and Knockturn Alleys converged.Chewing my lower lip, I looked down bright Diagon Alley, with its children racing around and bustling crowds, smiling people.I turned my eyes on Knockturn Alley, with its dark, forbidden stores and shady characters.

Oh, what the Hades.I wasn't a child anymore.Holding my bag tightly, I started down Knockturn Alley, trying to quell the uneasiness in my stomach.It was ridiculous to be scared…right?

On my left was an apothecary, with cracked windows and a rotted door hanging loosely off its hinges.An old, hunchbacked witch staggered around outside, calling out prices for various items.

"Hippogriff toenails, two for a Sickle!High quality for all potion uses!Moke skins, four Galleons each!Great for moneybags!"I blanched and looked away.Whatever had possessed me to come in this place?

I shivered and walked on, clutching my bag closer.On my left, I saw Borgin and Burke's.An employee was arranging something in the window.When he stepped aside, I could see that it was a gnarled hand clutching a half-burned candle.I quickly drew my eyes away and continued down the street.I didn't want to get something creepy for George.Just something interesting and different.

A few insalubrious characters passed me, beady eyes darting around suspiciously.I felt like a sugar quill amongst blood lollipops.On my right, I spotted a small, brighter-looking store that stuck out just as much as I did.

GRAY'S GREY GATHERINGS

ODDS AND ENDS FOR THE ASTUTE OF MIND

Perfect.I crossed the cobblestone street quickly and ducked inside, a bell signifying my entrance.The walls were covered in shelves of knickknacks, curios and other bric-a-brac.The store was dimly lit and the only thing other than the shelves and two aisles was a dilapidated cashier's desk.I pulled my cloak tightly around me and searched for the right thing.

A tea set that never spills?Nah.A tiny Puffskien brush?Not a chance; George hated the little animals.Perhaps a suitcase that could fit six-dozen children inside?Tempting for all of George's nieces and nephews, but I doubt his brothers and sisters-in-law would appreciate the gesture.

Finally, I turned away from the wall shelves and started down the first aisle.It was mostly stocked with clocks, one of which tried to bite me.I came to the end and was just about to turn the corner when I saw a lonely oval-shaped object under a layer of dust.Carefully, I lifted it into my palm and blew the dust from the lid.After coughing for a few moments, I pressed the tiny button on the top and it popped open.It startled me and I nearly dropped it.

"Wow," I whispered, looking into its face.The inside didn't look old at all; rather it looked as though it was crafted just minutes earlier.There were intricate designs on the inside lid.From what I could make out in the dim light, a knight was mounted upon a centaur and was positioned at the base of the tower.At the top of the tower, leaning out of the window, was a beautiful princess, long dark hair cascading downwards.I leaned forward and saw the knight looked extraordinarily like George.So much like him, in fact, that I felt a shiver go up my spine.My eyes drifted upwards and I saw that the princess was… me.

I gasped and snapped the pocketwatch closed.I held it for a few moments, trembling, before I dared open it again.It was just my imagination.The knight and princess looked nothing like George and me.It was merely my thoughts running wild.I opened it again slowly and looked at the bottom. The bottom portion had no numbers, but twelve hands.I remembered once when Professor Dumbledore had shown me a watch that looked astoundingly like this one.I flipped it over.The date marked was 1373.

The perfect gift.I'd fit the watch hands to read all sorts of silly things.George would love it.I started for the front desk when a hand landed very heavily on my shoulder.I gasped and turned around.

"Snape," I breathed.Silvanus Snape stood behind me, yellowed teeth stretched into a disgusting grin."I- I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting…"

"Neither was I," he said silkily.He moved a hand towards my face, but I turned away."I didn't expect such an innocent flower like yourself to be in Knockturn Alley all by alone.And without your George to protect you…" My heart pounded against my ribs and I clutched the pocketwatch to my chest.My other hand was holding tightly to the wand inside my robes.Snape only seemed to be amused by my facial expression."I am terribly sorry to hear of the passing of your good friend, Michelle," he said in a low voice.

"Her name was R-Rochelle," I stammered.It wasn't terribly important and I'd rather he didn't know, but it was all I could think of.Snape flinched a little at this, but recovered quickly.

"Nonetheless, the pain must be crushing."If I hadn't known better, I'd have thought he sounded genuinely sorry."You should have someone to…" he stepped closer, "console you."I narrowed my eyes at him, furious.

"Maybe you ought to leave," a voice said from behind me.I spun again and looked up into smoky grey eyes.The man that stood there looked to be about twenty-five and had blonde hair that fell just in front of his eyes.I turned around to look back at Snape, squaring my shoulders.Snape looked between the two of us, not losing a single grain of composure.

"And what place do you have to tell me to leave?" Snape asked coolly.

"This is my store and I'm _strongly suggesting_ you go."I could tell that there was no 'suggestion' in his tone.Snape gave us each another long glance, eyes sizing us up.

He leaned very close and whispered in my ear, "Until next time."I shrunk away and didn't open my eyes until I heard the bell in the front of the store ring.I felt a hand on my shoulder and I gasped, spinning around quickly.

"Are you all right, miss?" the stranger asked.I let out a relived sigh; he seemed nice enough.

"Yes, I'm all right."I had kind of wanted to deal with Snape on my own, but the man meant well.

"Has you ever seen that man before?" he asked, looking at me with worried eyes.I nodded."Old boyfriend or something?"I suppose the look on my face must have been pretty humorous, for he laughed and said, "Sorry, sorry, guess not.No offense."He smiled again and went behind the counter.

I followed him, stopping in front of the counter.I still had the old pocketwatch in my hands.It probably cost a zillion Galleons, but I'd ask anyhow.

"Um… I'd…" I began.He turned to look at me, and then spotted the item.A small smile crept across his face.

"Ah, hardly anyone gives my grandfather's old watch a second look," he said with a small smile.

"Oh, this belonged to your grandfather?"Histories of objects were always intriguing."Don't you want to keep it?"He shook his head.

"Nah, Grandfather never liked that one for some reason.His best friend had given it to him, but he was in love with her and…well, the feelings weren't returned.He got rid of it to try to forget about her.Lost its sentimental value, I suppose." He shrugged, but I thought it was a very sad story."He said something about the life of the giver was in the eyes of the character.Grandfather spoke in riddles all the time.I really have no idea what it means."I frowned down at the watch, and noted its date again.

"I guess it's rather expensive," I said slowly.

"Well, Grandfather told me to sell it for thirty Galleons…" I winced, "But I think that's too much, too.How about fifteen?"Still a bit pricey, but more affordable than thirty Galleons.I mused for a moment.George would definitely like it.

"Sounds good."

***

George and I had planned to out to dinner with Fred and Angelina the night before his birthday (The family was holding the party for the twins the next day at the Burrow.), but there was an emergency at 3W.During lunch break (the store closed for half an hour), a pewter cauldron was thrown through the front window and destroyed an entire aisle of merchandise.Someone had broken in and trashed the rest of the place.But the worst part of it was that that someone wrote derogatory slurs all over the wall, George's name being mentioned several times.

It was sick.The wizarding world was just as intolerant of sexual diversity as the Muggle world was and it infuriated me.When Fred and I had reentered the store (Angelina and George were behind, ogling something in the window at Zonko's), my heart stopped.The front window had been reenchanted to look as though it was in one piece and everything inside was just how it was left.

"Oh, Merlin…" Fred murmured.His usual temper wasn't to be seen, for the shock was too fresh.As our eyes roamed over the walls, over all the cruel words that had been scratched into the surface, I heard George's gasp behind me.

"George…" I started, turning to him.His face had gone white as he read the horrible things on the wall.

Fred had summoned Ministry officials to photograph the damage and see if any aura threads were left behind.Not even a Muggle fingerprinting kit got us closer to the person who'd done the horrible thing.The only witnesses saw someone in a black cloak slip into the store.The Ministry officials speculated the person had gone inside and enchanted the inside into stasis so no one could see what was happening.Fred saw Angelina home despite her protests and offers to help and then the three of us were left to sort out the pieces.

When I got home late that evening (Fred and George promised to clean up the rest), I opened the Daily Prophet and continued job hunting.The position that seemed most appealing was a position as psychiawitch at Paracelsus.However, the requirements included a three-year course at the hospital university.I sighed and rubbed my eyes before turning the page.There had to be something for me.

I heard a knock at the door and turned my head towards the sound.It was almost midnight._Far too late for visitors_, I thought.Then I remembered that George had told me he'd try to stop by.

"Come in!" I called anyway.The door opened slowly and George poked his head in."Hey," I smiled.He smiled back, if not a wit wanly."Everything sorted out at the shop?"He nodded and rubbed his eyes. 

"As much as we're going to get done tonight.They got the backroom, too.It's my birthday tomorrow and I'm not going to get myself worked up over it.It's over.For now anyway."George crossed the room to my side and gave another sigh.I looked up at him with concerned eyes.

"Are you sure, love?"He nodded.

"What're you doing?" he asked, nodding down at my newspaper.

"Looking for another job, remember?" I replied slowly, peering at him over the top of the parchment.He scowled.

"Damn, I'd hoped you'd given up on that."I frowned.It was really bothering him.

"George…" In reply, he picked me up in his arms, moved me off the couch, stretched out himself and then curled me against him, his chin resting on my shoulder."Comfortable?" I smirked.I looked in silence for a little longer and another ad caught my eye.

HERBOLOGIST WANTED - NO PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE NECESSARY

MUST HAVE PATIENCE AND HERBOLOGY EXPERIENCE

QUESTIONS?OWL HANNAH MCMILLIAN

OR INQUIRE AT DIAGON ALLEY'S _PLANTS-A-PLENTY_

_ _

"This one looks interesting," I mused, poking at the paper.George leaned forward a little and read it.He studied me for a moment and then shrugged."What's all that about?"He shrugged again, still frowning.Finally, he reached into his robes and pulled out a scrap of parchment.  "Here," he said morosely."The perfect job."I picked up the paper with interest and read. 
    
    PARKER JACKALOPE PRACTICAL JOKE ENTERPRISES
    
    EXPERIENCED MANAGER WANTED
    
    SERIOUS INQUIRIES ONLY

APPLY AT DIAGON ALLEY LOCATION  Below the listing was an address.I looked up at George, who was still frowning. 

"Perfect, isn't it?" he asked glumly.I giggled, took his face in my hands, and kissed him very hard.

"Why are you being such a Moaning Myrtle about this?"George wiggled a little bit and wrapped his arms around me.

"Because I'm greedy and awful and want you all to myself," he sighed.I giggling and gave him another firm snog.

"Well, I've got something for you," I said."Actually, two things."I crawled over him and he raised himself up on his elbows to look up at me.

"What?" he asked with interest.Without answering, I stood and went into the bedroom.I took his birthday present out from under my bed and reentered the living room.Now George was sitting up.

"Your birthday present, silly," I answered.I handed him the small wrapped package and chewed my lower lip.I really hoped he'd like it.

"But my birthday isn't until tomorrow," he said with a confused smile, but took the small present from my hand nevertheless.

"I know, but we have the party tomorrow at the Burrow and I wanted to give it to you today," I replied.I watched as he slowly unwrapped it and the shining pocketwatch came into view.His blue eyes sparkled as he studied it and turned it over in his palm.His hands brushed over the button and it popped open.I snickered into my hand when I saw that he jumped and almost dropped it.He brought the pocketwatch very close to his face and peered inside.

"Anya, this is so cool," he said slowly.I grinned and scooted closer, peering over his shoulder."How did you get the little people to look like us?" He saw it, too!But before I could answer, he'd turned it over, saw the date, and his eyes widened."This is over six hundred years old!Anya, where did you get this?It must have cost a fortune!"

"That, my love, is my little secret," I said with a smile.I removed the pocketwatch from his hands and set it on the side table.He looked sideways at me, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.His eyes watched me carefully as I slid my arms slowly around his neck.He raised an eyebrow.

"So where's this second gift you're going to give me?" he asked, putting his arms around my waist.I grinned and murmured the answer.

"You've got to unwrap it first."

**To be continued…**

** **

Yes, yes, a very lewd ending, but what can I say?I'm corrupted (*sends winks in Eb's direction*).Sorry about all the fluff, but I couldn't help myself.The next chapter will be heavy and depressing and the final chapter of the story.There's an epilogue after that, though, which has been written for ages (read: two days) and will probably be rewritten sixteen zillion times.

**Quidditch** (No, Fred cheated on Angelina with Shelly, not Alicia. *panics* Lack of apostrophes andquotation marks?But they were all there!), **Amanita** **Lestrange** (Eek!Pippin!*****schnoogles*** **Thanks for all the kind words about my writing and my character.), **Joy** (My, what a long review!Oh, yes!I was so worried about the G/A mush.Thank you for putting my mind at ease.I went back and changed the analysis mistake – thanks for letting me know!And it was the Sponge, and _not_ Crucio that made the Longbottoms go mad.The original diagnosis was incorrect.My mistake for being unclear.), **Ali** (LOL!Do you really think Anya would be cheeky to Alicia?Nah, she's still far too polite for her own good.Maybe re: the sequel.I'm thinking about writing a story that takes place between TiP and PL…), **AngieJ** (DON'T CALL HIM THAT!And no, Anya didn't cry. *winkwink*), **Juliette** (LOL, that's Eb's nicknames for them!Well, it came up in an IM and I put it into context.And yeah, deep down [**way** down], Fred's a good guy.), **Julius** (Neville's a cool character, isn't he?We get to see him in the next chapter.I'm glad the story stays Harry Potterish for you. J), **Mrs Fred Weasley** (TWIN!Yes, Fred is a nice boy and he's… well... nifty, I guess.), **gumdrop** (Thank you!I was worried the boggart part came off as cheesy.Glad you liked it.), **Sheryll Townsend** (3:30 AM reviews are the BEST!), **Kris RL** (*hands over a tissue*You going to be all right, love?), **nosilla** (Yeah, just when Anya gets everything sorted out… insert cackle here), **Moriel** (I went back and fixed those two mistakes.Thank you very much for pointing them out! *shuts ears in oven*Bad Jana!), **~*Ginny*~** (I'm glad you like Anya's father so much.She's misses him a whole lot, you know.I'll try and add a few more references to him in there for you.), **magical*little*me** (Pressure?PRESSUIRE?!*eye twitches*), **Belle Malfoy** (Thank you!), **Colette** (I like to think George and Anya like the way I ended it, too…), **Helmione Nightingranger** (Thank you so much for the kind words on Anya.She's definitely the OC I've put the most effort into ever and the payoff of feedback is quite rewarding.) **Sweetfires** (Brilliant? *flushes pink and tries not to look too pleased with herself*), **Miss Devonny** (Get Jackalope from American's Funniest Home Videos?Of course not!I've got a Jackalope farm in my backyard. *hums Bewitched theme*), Ashlie (Sealed the deal?LOL!That's a new one.And don't worry, this chapter is full of fluff.), **kateroo** (I could be evil and tell you "no promises"…), **Ruth** (They are rather cute, aren't they?), **R.J. Anderson **(*wipes spit from monitor*As far as the alcoholism goes, go back and read the parts about her drinking wine to rid of the nightmares and her having a lot of wine at the Jackalope party.I was worried it was too subtle…), ***~* Yesha *~*** (Hey, join the lazy club.George is wonderful, isn't he?*swoons*), **Minzzer** (I hope your computer is better!), **Hydy a.k.a. Serpentese** (Yes, her disappearance should be adequately explained at the end of the next chapter), **007** (Ask and ye shall receive!Hope you enjoyed it.), **RayMai** (The Wild Weasley Twins!LOL!), **Annie Argo** (I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying!Oh, and yes, Angelina is very pregnant and will have her first child in the next chapter.), **Stardust** (Yeah!), **Hallie Marie** (Another chapter and the epilogue – bear with me!), **DarkKnight** (*turns very pink*Aw, shucks…), my buddy and beta, **Colin** (Wow, six reviews!Oy, where do I begin?Lots of glomps and schnoogles in those reviews.I feel so loved!Hope you enjoyed Dreamwalk Blue – Viola's a great writer.), **Lisa** (Thank you!And I've posted the chapter for you, George and Anya.Is everyone happy now?) and ***Hermiron778*** (Aren't AuthorAlerts cool?).****

** **

P.S.Font changes for no apparent reason and huge spaces between paragraphs is ff.net weirdness and not intended on my part.Sorry!

   [1]: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HP_Paradise



	8. Easier Not Knowing

**Author: **George Weasley's Girlfriend

**Title:** Not Quite Paradise

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimers: **Anything created by Ms. J. K. Rowling belongs to her; everything else, to me.****

**Summary:** This is a prequel to AngieJ/Ebony's "Trouble in Paradise."  It's strongly suggested that you read as much of that as you can before reading this story.  Done?  Good.  This fic takes place in early 2004.  Most of it will center on the Weasley twins and the Gryffindor Chasers, but it's not as though the Terrific Trio will be absent.  I really hope you enjoy reading this!

**A/N:** Thanks to my betas (Eb, Colin, Sue, Christina, Virgo, Pippin and special guest beta and awesome artist: Danielle a.k.a. fleurelissa), as always, and to everyone who's been along with me on this wild ride.  Thank you for your patience in getting this last chapter out, as my real life made this story take a backseat.  I'm terribly sorry for the wait, and I hope this chapter makes up one tiny piece towards making it up to anyone who has read the story.

**Not Quite Paradise**

_"I close my eyes,_**_  
_**_And there in the shadows I see your light._**_  
_**_You come to me out of my dreams_

_Across the night."_

_            --Lara Fabian, "For Always," A.I. Artificial Intelligence Soundtrack_

**Chapter Eight**

**Easier Not Knowing**

George and I woke up very late the next morning, at the exact same moment, and in each other's arms.  He smiled at me briefly, then tried to go back to sleep, but I shook him awake again once I realized how late we were.

"Doesn't matter.  It's just my family," he muttered against my shoulder.  I laughed and poked him in the ribs until he opened his eyes.

"_Just_ your family?  Just your family who will think ill of me if you're late for your own party," I replied, looking at him and smiling.  I brushed his floppy hair out of his eyes, wishing for the hundredth time that he would get it cut, and I rested back against his arm.

"They won't think ill of you.  You're practically part of the family anyway."  He closed his eyes again, but I didn't let him go back to sleep.  Reluctantly, we rose and, after preparing a quick breakfast, George warned me that everyone would know exactly why we were late.

"Our first public appearance and we're late," George snickered into his orange juice from my bathroom door.

"Public appearance?" I said through a mouthful of toothpaste.  I spat into the sink.

"Yes… I'm afraid my brothers' wives are going to have a field day with you," George smirked.  He downed the rest of his drink and leaned against the doorframe.

"They won't… be too bad… will they?" George just laughed as he turned and walked back into my kitchen.

Upon arrival (George and I were most certainly the last ones), I encountered more Weasleys in one place then ever before.  It was easy to tell the spouses from the blood Weasleys by their hair.  The main gathering was in the backyard, where tents were set up and children were racing after each other on broomsticks that only flew a few feet off the ground.

Eight-year-old PJ Weasley was sitting by himself under a big maple tree, parchment spread all around him.  There were quills and pink ink everywhere.  He didn't look as though he was particularly working very hard, as he had more ink on his fingers and face than he did on the parchment.  PJ folded a section of the parchment in half and placed it on top of his head.  I laughed into my hand despite myself (I imagined I would make an awful mother), and Penelope, her mother radar most likely sounding, swiftly crossed the backyard to scold her son. 

"So many people…" I murmured.  Shy Anya was creeping up on me again.  Already I could pick out Fred (who was rarely more than a foot away from Angelina at any given time), Charlie (who was carrying his daughter, Elizabeth, on his shoulders), and Bill, who was strangely without his wife, Fleur.

Bill was leaning casually against the gazebo rail, taking a healthy swig from a bottle of butterbeer.  My eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, for Bill had never been much of a drinker, let alone at family parties.  I nudged George, and he followed my gaze.  George winced a little and shook his head.

"He and Fleur have been having… problems," he explained.  We intermingled with other guests.  George got more than a few nudges and winks, while I was about up to my nose in knowing looks.

Our arrival wasn't as quiet as I would have liked, but I really hadn't expected it to be, as George was an honored guest.  Fred and Angelina had staked out a shaded area in the backyard and looked caught up in such a romantic moment that everyone left them well enough alone.  Around noon, Charlie and Bill started up a game of Quidditch over at one end of the backyard while most of the wives grouped together under the shade of the porch.

"I'm going to join that Quidditch game… come with me, love?" George asked.  I shook my head slowly and looked over at the wives, most of whom I knew.

"I think I'll go relax out of the sun for a little while.  But I'll watch."  He smiled and nodded.  After a glance around, we kissed and parted.

I inconspicuously took a seat between Liz and a nervous looking Ginny, who was tapping her long fingernails on a napkin and chewing her lower lip.  Liz smiled at me warmly, but Ginny didn't even notice my presence.

Penny, Percy's wife, was talking quickly, a sure sign that she was upset.  Her voice rose as she spoke.  "When two people are married, it is _forever_.  Not until they get into little spats and disagree on – what was it – whether or not to go to a party?"  I sat back and blended into the background, listening half-heartedly to Penny's rant on marriage, while looking over at the makeshift Quidditch pitch.  Bill was at Keeper, with the twins in the Beater positions.  Charlie was playing, too, as a Chaser, and Arthur was far above the pitch, looking down for the Snitch.

I smirked; Arthur would never be too old to do anything.

"—Don't you think, Anya?" jarred me back to the conversation.  But this time it was a slightly less worried Ginny who was speaking.

"Huh?  Think what?  I'm sorry; I was watching…" I said softly, and then trailed off as the smiles around the table broadened.  I sunk in my seat as they nodded knowingly at each other.  Apparently, good news traveled faster than Apparition.

Ginny had apparently given up on asking me whatever she was going to ask me when she leaned forward and asked in a conspiratorial whisper, "So how did it happen?"

"And when?" Liz asked eagerly.

"And for how long?" Angelina (who I hadn't even seen join us) put in, sending everyone into gales of laughter.  I flushed pink.  _Well, that certainly was none of their business_, I thought, suppressing a yawn.  We _had_ been up late, hadn't we?  I sputtered, not coming up with an intelligible, yet polite enough word to express my distaste at the questions.

"Well, Fred says—" Angelina began.  I bent my head and hid my face with my hair.  It really wasn't an appropriate question to ask nor was it Angelina's business to tell them anything of our private affairs.  As usual, I said nothing.  Let them have their fun.  I listened to them speculate for a little while, Penny looking extremely ruffled that her marriage rant had been interrupted and Ginny's worry mounting once more.

I excused myself after a little while, resolving to take a quick walk in the forest behind the Burrow.  George was still quite involved in the Quidditch game and was trying everything he could to knock his twin off his broom.  Boys.

I started into the quiet forest, just barely alive with the sounds of singing wildlife.  Far away, I heard an Augurey cry and wondered if it was the same little friend I'd encountered not so long ago.  I walked slowly along, listening to the sounds of the forest; the party din grew quieter with distance.

However, the cheerful noise did not give way to silence.  Instead, its absence only revealed arguing voices.

"—But you _promised_ a dozen times that you would be here with me," a Weasley voice, not yet identifiable, cut through the forest.  I paused behind a tree, peeking into the clearing ahead.  A desperate Ron was standing face-to-face with an annoyed Hermione.

"And I also have a responsibility to my patients, Ron, and you know they're very important to me," Hermione replied calmly, but not without a hint of frustration.  Both of their robes were ruffled, not to mention their hair, so it was easy to tell that they hadn't wandered into the forest to argue.

"Aren't I important to you, too, love?" Ron asked.  Hermione's features softened and she reached up to touch Ron's cheek.

"You are important to me, Ron, but so is my work. I'll see you at home, honey.  I promise I'll be at the next Weasley function."  She leaned forward and kissed him before he could protest, and then Apparated away with a pop.

"As long as she's happy…" Ron said lamely to the spot where she had just been.  He dropped his chin and shuffled out of the clearing, back towards the party.  I crept into the clearing after him and frowned.  If those two didn't learn how to prioritize and talk about what's going on rather than using cheap guilt trips and last minute excuses, they'd have some real problems down the road.  But on the outside, to the rest of the world, they'd seemed so happy and perfect and…

Well, facades could be misleading.  I chastised myself for listening in on a private conversation and started back.  My "short" walk had taken longer than expected and I didn't fancy being pegged as antisocial.

I turned to head back when I saw his face.

He was too quick for me to get away and all of a sudden, I found my back against a tree and my windpipe getting crushed by a strong forearm.  My fingers reached up to claw at him, but he leaned close to my face and demanded, "Quiet."

"Snape," I hissed back, but only because that's all the oxygen I had to spare.  I blanched at his disgusting breath and tried hard to keep myself under control.  Oh, Merlin, if I could only call out for help…

"So you think you're too good for me, do you, little miss Anya?" he hissed in my ear.  I tried to kick him, but he had his entire body pressed up against mine.  My eyes filled with desperate tears.  "Aw, is the poor little flower going to cry?  You know, the blonde one cried, too."

My world stopped.  In that moment, the only things relevant were Snape and the words he'd just spoken.  _The blonde one… Shelly… Rochelle… Michelle… something wrong with the name… the note… Rochelle… not Michelle_…

"Yes…" Snape's eyes glittered dangerously.  I saw more of his father in him now than ever.  "Yes, you understand me.  You understand the power I have over you, over your life…" His arm loosened a little and I sucked in a breath.

"Shelly," I sobbed, gasping for air.  The image of her face filled my mind and I found a rage within myself I never thought possible.  It was a rage that, alone, could not save my life.  Snape laughed in my face, not daunted by my attempt at escape.

"I am getting more and more powerful within the organization… I daresay I'll be part of the Cabal before the year is out," Snape continued, a maniacal grin across his face.  I'd never seen anyone more excited in my life.  "However, my slip of the tongue in Knockturn Alley – which you shall never enter again, little girl – prevents my superiors from resting peacefully at night.  So I am afraid this is the end for you."  The world around me tilted crazily, and my chest burned, spots forming in front of my eyes.

"GET OFF HER!" a voice roared and I found my windpipe clear again.  I fell to my hands and knees, gratefully sucking in mouthful after mouthful of blessed air.  I cringed back against the tree, my mind still alarmed and ready for another attack.  I blinked a few times, clearing my vision, and saw Snape sitting awkwardly up against a tree on the other side of the clearing.  His eyes were closed and a thick line of blood trailed from his temple across his face and over his eye.

I lay there for a few more moments, clinging to the grass.  _Shelly, Shelly, I'm so sorry_, I moaned inwardly.  _I never should have believed that you would kill yourself.  I miss you so much.  _I struggled hard against the tears – I'd already done my share of grieving – when I saw two other figures enter the forest.

I scrambled up against the tree, panting hard.  I didn't have any fight left in me…

"Is that… Anya?" the first figure came into view, and I breathed a sigh of relief.  Harry Potter.  I started across the clearing at him, but walking proved too rigorous of an experience and I fell again.  The next things I felt were Harry's hands on my shoulders, and his voice telling me to breathe slowly and keep my eyes closed.

Once I felt safe enough to walk again, Harry held my hand and helped me up.  It was then that I could identify the second person in the forest: Draco Malfoy.  He was kneeling beside Snape, an expression of pure disgust on his face.  His eyes flicked up at me.

"I thought you were Ginny," he drawled, by way of a greeting.  He looked back down at Snape for a moment and then stood.  "What does she know?" he asked, as though I wasn't standing right there.  While I was looking at Draco, Harry had conjured a glass of water and handed it to me.

"Here, drink.  It'll make you feel better," he said.  I felt two pairs of eyes on me as I thanked him and drank it gratefully.  It tasted funny, but I found myself not caring.  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard him asking me questions and listened to my own monotone replies.  Words like "Shelly" and "power" and "Cabal" stuck out in my mind.  He smiled at me, almost pityingly, and then touched his wand to my forehead.

I shook my head slowly, wondering why Draco and Harry were in the clearing with me just after Ron had left.  Had they seen him leave?

"Summon Sirius.  He'll know what to do," Harry muttered to Draco in a voice he thought I wouldn't be able to hear.  What did Harry want Sirius to do?

Draco nodded from where he was crouched.  He was near a tree, fidgeting with something on the ground.  When I tried to get a closer look, Harry blocked my line of vision.

"You seem a little disoriented, Anya.  How about I take you back to the party?" Harry offered.  I nodded, still feeling a little dizzy, and let him walk me back through the forest and into the Weasley backyard.

The Quidditch game was still in its prime when Harry and I returned.  Even the wives and young children had gathered around the makeshift pitch.  As I saw him looking up at the players, I saw his eyes blur for a moment as thought he was remembering a wonderful game.  Before I could ask, his eyes focused again, and he smiled at me.

"Why didn't you ever try out for Quidditch?" he asked.

"It's too unorganized for me, I suppose.  I don't think I'd be very good at it."  Harry looked sideways at me for a moment before chuckling.

"I suppose it does look disorganized from the ground, but I can assure you that a great deal of planning and strategy go into each play," he said.  I felt a little sheepish.

"Well, I didn't mean to offend—" Harry laughed again, and I had a feeling he was trying too hard.  I frowned, studying him; he was certainly acting strangely.

"No, not at all," he said.  His smiled faded, and an awkward silence fell between us.

I shielded my eyes against the sun and looked up, searching for George.  He was arguing with Fred over something, but they were both laughing.  George zoomed past me upside down, showing off.  I laughed and blew him a kiss as he soared upwards.

"That reminds me; I hear congratulations are in order," Harry teased beside me, hiding a smirk.  I glowered at him.

"Oh, _honestly_, we're not getting married or anything," I said.  He let the smile escape and I wrinkled my nose at him.  We spoke for a few more minutes, moving over to the other side of the pitch where we didn't have to look at the sun.

"WATCH OUT!" someone shouted from the pitch.  The voice sounded so desperate that I didn't know who it was.  Everything moving in slow motion, I looked over my shoulder and felt myself being pulled to Harry's chest and my head covered with his hand.  A dull thud sounded behind us.  He released me slowly and I pulled away, a touch indignant.

"Is he all right?"

"Can you hear me?"

Panicked voices were escalating while a group of Weasleys formed a clump near the edge of the pitch.  They were all hovering around something on the ground.  Harry pushed his way to the center and I followed slowly, intending on staying on the outskirts.  Suddenly, Ginny untangled herself from the mess of people and headed for me.

She looked at me in the eyes and put a hand on each of my shoulders, looking at me carefully.  Her face was far too serious for my liking.

"He's going to be fine; don't worry.  The Bludger only hit his shoulder…" Ginny said gravely.  I frowned, not understanding.  I looked over her shoulder at Fred, who had jumped on a Bludger and was wrestling it towards the chest where all the Quidditch balls were kept.  Other than looking mildly annoyed, Fred looked none worse for the wear.  "Harry doesn't think we need a mediwizard or anything…"

"George," I gasped, finally comprehending.  I tried to push past Ginny to get to him, but she held onto me firmly.

"No, he's fine," Ginny tried to say, but I wrenched away from her with more strength than I thought I had in me.  The crowd parted before me, just in time for me to see Bill helping George to his feet.  George was wincing, as Bill was careful not to let his younger brother tip over.  George tried to wave him off.

I ran to George and stopped just short of throwing my arms around him.  The last thing he needed was to be knocked off his feet.

"Are you all right?" I asked quickly.  "What happened?  Oh, that Bludger must have been out of control!  Your shoulder—"

"Anya, I'm fine," George interrupted, finally freeing himself from Bill.  He grinned a little painfully.  "Better me than you, right, love?"  At my expression, he rested a hand on each of my shoulders.  I calmed slightly.  "Ginny fixed me up right quick.  It takes more than a Bludger to keep me down."  He was still grinning, but I could tell he was clenching his teeth tightly.

"Maybe you ought to—" I began, leading George toward the house, but was cut off by another voice.

"George!  What were you _thinking_?  Using _real_ Bludgers!" the ranting began.  "Merlin's ghost, there are children present and all you boys care about is your Quidditch…"

"Uh oh," George and I said in unison.  We looked up to see Molly Weasley rushing towards us.  Before either of us could say another word, Molly snatched George away from me, her rants alternating between her anger at the admittance of a real Bludger into a casual game to her worry over George's poor ickle shoulder.

I followed them into the house and stood silently in the doorway as Molly fussed about the kitchen, looking for her book on magical first aid.  George gave me a lopsided smile over his mother's head.

"Mum, I'm fine," George said.  He swung his arm and shoulder for emphasis.  Either the spells that Ginny had done were kicking in, or he was getting better at masking his pain.  "No, really, Mum, it didn't hit that hard…" After a steely glare from his mother, he sighed and resigned himself to one of the kitchen chairs.

I entered the kitchen calmly and plucked the book Molly had been looking for (_Crafty Cures for Magical Maladies _by Markus Metheglin) from between Gilderoy Lockhart's newest bestseller, _Aging With Grace_, and Argus Filch's _How To Discipline Troublemakers While Grudgingly Remaining Within The Law_.  I tapped Molly on the shoulder and when she turned to face me, I handed her the book.

"Oh, thank you, Anya!" she said with a broad smile, taking the book from me gratefully.  I didn't think I'd be too pretentious to diagnose her as manic-depressive, but I kept my thoughts to myself.  Molly crossed the room to George's side, and flipped open the book.  She skimmed through a few pages and found her desired section.  I watched George's barely concealed exasperation mount as she fired off spell after spell.

"Mum, are you quite finished?" George asked as she finally closed the book.  He smiled wearily up at me, and I couldn't help but return the smile.

"You rest that arm; do you hear me?" Molly said, pointing her wand threateningly in George's direction.  George nodded patiently and his mother cast a glance in my direction before leaving.  "Keep an eye on him, Anya.  Leave him to his own devices and he'll be out there playing Quidditch as though nothing ever happened.  Honestly, having boys is like…" Her voice trailed off as she left the room.

When I turned back to George, he was rolling his eyes.

"Mothers, eh?" he asked with a smirk.  "Can't live with them, can't lock them in a—"

"George!"  His smile remained as broad as it had been before, and I wrinkled my nose at him.

"You know you look just like a nervous Puffskien when you do that," George informed me.  I winkled my nose at him again for good measure, and he stood up from his chair.  I watched him cross to the kitchen window and glance outside.

"PJ had better not be on that broomstick playing _my _position by time I get out there," George said, half to himself.

"You heard what your mother said," I chided, trying to look stern.  I thought I was doing a good job until he turned to smirk at me.

"I have two ears that work perfectly fine," he said, leaning lazily against the sink, his elbows on the counter.  Damn, a wizard should not be allowed to stand like that when his witch was in the room and she couldn't do anything about it because the wizard's family was just outside.  Bloody hell, it just wasn't fair.

I went to stand before him and waited patiently, looking up into his eyes.

"What?" he whispered very quietly.  It made me shiver.  He shifted slightly and rose to his full height, bringing his arms around me.

"I suppose if your mother can't convince you to stop playing Quidditch, then I'll have to distract you otherwise…" I reached up and touched the side of his face.  I was enjoying this little game of seduction (in the brightly lit kitchen of George's mother's house, no less).

"That is an exceedingly excellent idea, Katie," he murmured.

I could tell by the way he stiffened that he'd realized what he'd said just a moment too late.  I stepped back out of his arms, looking wide-eyed up at him.  This was too much.  I'd known it was too good to be true, but it was too much.

"Anya, I didn't—" he began.

"Didn't what?" I shot back angrily.  "Didn't just whisper your ex-girlfriend's name?  I can assure you that you did."  I turned on my heel, too furious and hurt to want to deal with him, and headed for the door.  George was right behind me.

"Wait, let me explain…"

"Explain?  Explain what?" I demanded, turning to face him.  I wanted to be selfish right then, to cry and make him feel awful, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.  "Why now?  Why after all this time?  She's gone, George.  I thought you would be over her."  I watched him, wanting him to persuade me out of my anger, but he stared right back at me.  "I can't change it.  I can't bring her back.  And most importantly, I'm not her.  I'm sorry."  That was the closest I came to bursting into tears.

I turned again, but his voice stopped me from stepping away.

"How can I get over someone I murdered?" he said in a voice full of tears, though I was sure there were none on his face.  I froze in place, mind spinning.  Murder?  George wasn't capable of murder.  It was a Sponge that killed Katie.  "I'm not lying.  I murdered her as sure as if I had cast the Sponge myself.  I was supposed to eat lunch with her that day.  And because I wasn't there, she went into her house alone."

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come.  This whole thing was so unbelievable.

"Why did you hide this from me?" I finally asked softly, turning.  As soon as I saw the look he got in his eyes after those words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back.

"Because I knew you'd hate me!" George exploded, stepping towards me so quickly that he wobbled uncertainly for a moment.  I stepped backward, away from him, and bumped into the wall.  I had an instant flash of Fred in the backroom of 3W.  "It was my fault she died.  If I had gone out to eat with her like I was _supposed_ to, I—"

"You could have _what_, George?" I asked boldly, taking a step towards him.  "Been Sponged like her?  Listen to me; there's nothing you could have done.  You can't change the past," I said firmly.  I lowered my voice a few levels.  "There's nothing you could have done to save her," I whispered.  His blue eyes met mine very slowly, as though he was scared.

"I don't know that for sure… all I know is that she's gone forever and it's my fault," he murmured in reply.

"That's dragonshit, George Weasley, and you know it!" I shouted at him, losing my composure.  I could feel my blood boiling in my veins as I let go of his arms and clenched my fists at my sides.  "You can't just mope around and play the martyr.  You've got to accept that you _couldn't save her."_

"I couldn't save her because I wasn't there!  And maybe if I had walked in first, she would have figured out that it was a Sponge and gotten away!" he shouted back, the rising color in his cheeks making his freckles blend in with his reddened face.

"Oh, so you think it'd be better if you had just… just… gone and _died_ and left _me_ by myself?!" I shouted at him.

"That's not what I said,' he told me, the warning tone evident in his voice.

"But that's what you meant.  You think that I don't need you—"

"Maybe I don't need you either!" he shot back, eyes narrowed sharply.  The blood left my face, and I took a step back.  His eyes went wide.  He reached out for me, but I flinched away from him.  His words pounded in my head: _I don't need you_… 

"Anya, wait.  I didn't…" Now it was my turn to narrow my eyes at him.

"Don't touch me," I said lowly in a dangerous voice.  I took another step back.  "Don't come near me."  My voice cracked on these words.  He had been pretending, just like the others.  Just like Angelina had pretended to explain away Katie and Alicia's taunts.  Just like Mum and Dad promised they would always been there for me.  Just like Shelly said I could always turn to her for help.

I couldn't face him any longer.  Those trusting eyes, that fiery hair, those soft lips, that familiar face…  Breathing erratically, I tried to Disapparate.  My chest… my lungs were on fire.  The sensations of pain forced me to cry out and fall to my knees.  My lungs felt like they were shrinking… like they couldn't hold air any longer.  It was as though someone had taken a vise and squeezed my entire torso into it.

_So this is what the Cruciatus Curse feels like_, I thought somewhere in the back of my mind.  A hand on my shoulder… a voice… something like a spell… _Anti_-something… a whisper… "Oh, no…" Then, blackness.

***

Soft sound.  A deep, familiar voice.  Horrible ache in chest.  Dull pain in the back of my head.

"—Can hear me, I need you—Anya?"  I cracked my eyes open slightly, trying to focus on the voice rather than the fact that every part of me hurt except for my hair and fingernails.  "Anya, can you hear me?  Do you see me?"  George's blurry face was bent over mine and he looked as though the Bloody Baron had just passed through him.

I nodded slightly and sharp pain tore through my throat.  I reached my hand up automatically and rested it on my neck, as though it would have some sort of medicinal effect.  I moved my hand slightly and brushed my fingers across the corner of my lips.  They came away bloody.

As pale as the Grey Lady, George took my bloody fingers in his.  I could feel his hand trembling around mine.

"I called for stretcher-bearers.  They should be here any minute," he said softly, sweeping a lock of hair from my face with his free hand.  "I need you to keep your eyes open and look at me, okay?"  I couldn't nod my head, because I was afraid it would hurt too much.  He cradled my cheek with his soft palm and whispered, "I didn't mean what I said.  I… I misunderstood what you said… and I was just upset."  _What a horribly trivial matter to discuss at a time like this_, I thought vaguely.  His next words sounded very far away as my vision blurred: "Don't close your eyes, Anya.  Please."

I did.

To be continued.

We're not done yet, ladies and gentlemen.  There's one more installment to go, in the form of an epilogue.  It's already written and sent to the betas.  Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, or clicked on the link.  You are loved dearly and appreciated wholeheartedly. J 


	9. Epilogue

See previous chapters for information. Dedicated to everyone who's lost someone.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
1.1.1  
  
1.1.2 Not Quite Paradise  
  
   
  
Tomorrow's an illusion.  
  
Yesterday's a dream.  
  
Today is absolution.  
  
But you gotta let her breathe.  
  
-Bliss, Not Quite Paradise  
  
   
  
1.1.3 Epilogue  
  
   
  
DAILY PROPHET – 3 APRIL 2004 – POSSIBLE MURDER AT PARACELSUS? AN EXCLUSIVE STORY BY RACHEL RATLIFFE  
  
Sometimes, it's the place you feel the safest that is actually the most dangerous. Death was probably the last thing on Anya Parker's mind bright and early on the morning of April first, but before the sun rose the next day, her life would be over.  
  
Although the official Magical Medical Examiner's report states that Parker died of complications due to the Respori Hex performed on her at 17, suspicious circumstances surround her death.  
  
Sources say Parker had been dating Weasley Wizard Wheezes' entrepreneur George Weasley secretly since their Hogwarts days. Recently, this information became public, as several photos have verified. Was Anya Parker's death a crime of passion? Did George Weasley indeed take the life of his childhood sweetheart?  
  
A doctor at Paracelsus (name withheld) insists that the only visitor to Parker's room on the night of the murder was George Weasley. Aura security shows him leaving several minutes before the time of death. However, ten minutes are unaccounted for on the security listing. Doctors at Paracelsus have refused to comment on the missing time.  
  
Although the official Magical Medical Examiner, Ashlie Kauffman, has confirmed that Anya Parker's cause of death was lingering effects of the Respori Hex, witnesses had seen Kauffman and Parker "shouting" and "crying" at a murder scene just a month earlier.  
  
Rochelle Walters, 26, was found dead by best friend Parker last month. Inside sources report an emotional scene took place between Kauffman and Parker when medimagical officials arrived on the scene to collect the body. Perhaps, then, Parker's death should not be pinned on the lover. It is also possible that Kauffman, her authority undermined in front of her colleagues, sought to quiet the source of the problem.  
  
All that is certain is that Anya Parker, at the age of only 26, has moved on to the next great adventure.  
  
--Rachel Ratliffe, Special Correspondent  
  
***  
  
DAILY PROPHET – 3 APRIL 2004 - OBITUARIES  
  
Anya Maria Parker passed away late yesterday night due to lingering effects of a Respori Hex. She is survived by no family, but leaves behind best friends George and Fred Weasley, owners of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Funeral is being at Circe Cemetery on Tuesday at three o'clock.  
  
   
  
***  
  
DAILY PROPHET – 6 APRIL 2004 – LOST & FOUND  
  
Black and white tabby found near corner of Siegel and Sapphire in Hogsmeade. Has ID tag reading "Stevie." Mews late at night. Looking for owner. Contact Beth Wagner via owl to describe fully and identify.  
  
***  
  
   
  
"Learned one thing the hard way. I can't get out of this place by myself. I can hang on like lint – I can believe in miracles – but I can't keep life going by myself. Right? Somebody out there has to keep believing, too, and searching for me.  
  
"I can't help you do that – it's up to you, like Zack said.  
  
"Unless my believing keeps you believing."  
  
   
  
--Ouida Sebestyen, The Girl in the Box  
  
   
  
They put a typewriter in here with me. I don't know why. There's lots of paper. Maybe they want me to write something for them. I was given no instructions. I'll go mad. I can't stand the sound of my own voice, trying to keep me sane, so I'll type my thoughts.  
  
This typewriter is old. It's a Muggle contraption, but even they use computers now. Daddy used to have a typewriter like this around the house. I miss him and  
  
Had a crying spell. Couldn't finish my sentence. Sorry. Seems as though it's all I do here. I just want to go home. I just want to be able to have George hold me again. I want to take J'Belle out for ice cream again. I even want Fred to yell at me for something. I would give anything in the world to be the object of Alicia's taunts.  
  
I don't know how long I've been here. No human contact. I wake up every morning and find food and water. In a strange sort of way, I'm grateful. I mean, I could be left to starve here. But I've got food, water, a place to sleep, and a bathroom. That's a lot more than many people have.  
  
So I guess I'm grateful.  
  
But I still want to go home so I can  
  
Went on another crying jag. Had to go to the bathroom and get a tissue and wipe my tears away. Wish George was here to do it for me. Fingers are steady again now. Can't believe I've not yet made a spelling error. Not bad. Never been much of a typist. But I swear if they let me out of here, I'll type faster than anyone in the world and that's a promise.  
  
The light through the window (too high for me to see through) is fading. It must be late. Left watch back at the hospital so I don't know what time it is.  
  
When I was little, Daddy always told me it would be bedtime when the shadows in the front living room were bigger than me. We had an old statue of a mermaid (Mummy hated it, but Daddy loved it – never knew why until I was older) in front of the window. I would always wish to grow so I could stay up later.  
  
If I had Daddy here to tuck me in, I wouldn't mind going to bed early.  
  
Can't hold myself together much longer. There's only so much a twenty-six year old can do, right? I've realized that I'm not grown up all the way yet. Part of me is still a kid. The part of me that takes for granted that the sun will rise tomorrow and I'll be able to walk out of my back door and see the Mokes crawling up and down my trees. The naive child inside me believes that.  
  
I'm just afraid a tired old woman is taking her place.  
  
NO. I won't let it happen. This place will not break me. I had three weeks alone – away from almost everyone – after my Treatment. I was okay. I can't have been here more than a few days. Maybe a week. Maybe two. Maybe a year.  
  
No, that's not true either. What kept me alive those weeks is that if things got too hard, I could go to someone. The option was there.  
  
Going to sleep now.  
  
  
  
Michael did it the coward's way. Kidnapping me, I mean. How brave of him to wait until I was alone in my room at night and sneak in. What valor it must have taken to Petrify me and replace my body with some poor Polyjuiced victim. How manly it was for him to wait until Hermione came in to check on me and all I could do, draped in his Invisibility Cloak, was try to cry. And I couldn't even do that.  
  
The worst part of all was watching as the doctors shot spells and injected me with potions. They were trying so hard but the person  
  
the one who Michael  
  
the one lying in my place in the bed was dead before the doctors even came in. But they tried anyway. They tried.  
  
No, watching the doctors try wasn't the worst part. Waiting until the room was empty, watching "my" body get covered with a blanket and watching helplessly as the body was levitated out wasn't the worst part.  
  
Being dragged into the hall by Michael and seeing George sitting in a chair with his head down was the worst part. His head was down between his knees and his fingers were clasped around his neck. He was all by himself. He looked so little in the chair. He wasn't moving very much, but his shoulders were shaking. I think he was crying.  
  
It was in the men's bathroom. The Portkey, I mean. I think it was the faucet of one of the sinks, but I don't know. It's hard to see through tears.  
  
  
  
I miss my garden. There are more important things, like people, that I miss more fiercely and more often, but I miss my garden, too. It was a nice place to sit and get away from the world. Flowers don't fight with you and bushes don't have meetings and trees can't be busy. But my garden was so pretty and vivid and this room is very bland. No color. I wish I had blue eyes or blonde hair so I could at least look in the bathroom mirror and remember what color is.  
  
I remember watching my mum garden when I was about 5. I could never figure out what was so neat about getting all dirty. I was a lazy child – I just wanted the damn flowers. But as I grew over, I discovered the fun of mud and ended up enjoying gardening.  
  
When I got into magical flowers, I thought I'd found a career. They grow quickly and have amazing qualities. I even did better in Potions because I understood what the ingredients did. Severus Snape was not a horrible man. Just a confused one. There were rumors that he was a Death Eater. I knew they were true because his sleeve had accidentally revealed the Dark Mark during class. I pretended to be sick so I could leave the room.  
  
Start with gardening and end up with Snape. Odd. My thoughts are so abstract, so strange. Nothing seems organized. It's like having scattered parchment on my desk and not being able to find the right one. Like when George says he's trying to find something in the way I organize my files and he  
  
It's painful to talk about George. No, not painful. That's not the right word. Hard, maybe. But at the same time it's easy. It keeps me Anya Parker and reminds me that someone out there loves me and will be there when I get out. Because I will get out.  
  
Right?  
  
  
  
Day Three of the Amazing Adventures of Anya. Ha. Alliteration. Fun. As morbid as it sounds, it's the most exciting thing that's happened to me. I'm numb to it now, so I can talk about it objectively. I overheard Angelina telling someone once that she'd like to write a mystery novel some day. I think she was telling Katie. I'm not sure. But Angelina wants to write a mystery novel. But if she ever wants to know what it's like to be captive somewhere and not know if you'll see another day or your loved ones ever again, well, Hades, I'll tell her all about it. Or maybe they'll find me dead and find these papers. If someone's reading this, give it to Angelina. She can use it for research or something.  
  
Again with the morbidity. Have my thoughts always been this terrible? Maybe they just seem more terrible now because they're typed out on paper. In my head, it's just  
  
I'm going to type about something happier. Something like… my first kiss. When I was in fifth year, I was dating a boy named Justin Finch-Fletchley. He was a third year at the time. Or maybe a fourth year, but anyway, he was a Hufflepuff: quiet sometimes and loud at others. He told me he spent two weeks working up the courage to talk to me in the library. I was flattered, of course, because no one really gave me that sort of attention.  
  
I could tell right off that he was jealous of the friendship between George and me. I could also tell that George was getting buggered at me spending Hogsmeade weekends with Justin. I met Justin in the astronomy tower one night (It was the first and only time I'd ever sneaked out past hours with anyone other than the twins). We kissed under the stars. So I got my first kiss a little late. But it was worth it.  
  
George and I had a blazing row over something – I don't even remember what – the day Justin and I broke up. I cried myself to sleep that night, feeling as though my life couldn't get any worse. But then Albus Dumbledore showed up at my dormitory door and summoned me down into the common room. When I got down there, he told me  
  
Crying jag. Big surprise, right?  
  
Professor Dumbledore told me that my mum had been  
  
She was  
  
She'd passed away because of Death Eaters. Dad had come home from work and she was sitting in the living room chair, eyes closed. Dad thought she was asleep, but then he shook her and she wouldn't wake up and Dumbledore said it must have been the Killing Curse.  
  
I miss my mummy. I remember crying and Dumbledore trying to console me. I remember looking up and seeing George at the top of the boys' dormitory stairs in his Bludger-adorned pajamas, looking very confused. He came down and held me and I heard the professor explain what happened to my mum to George. My heart never hurt so much. I wanted to be happy, as George held me all that night, my best friend wasn't mad at me anymore. But I'd lost my mother and any happiness in the next few months was completely and totally vanquished.  
  
I went home to Dad the next morning. He looked so old and it seemed as though I'd been away ages. We cried together, the last two in a family of what were once four. Michael, you were off at your damn Auror thing – Merlin, I don't even remember – but you never came home.  
  
That's your fault, Michael. Your stole yourself and mum away from me. I hope you go to hell.  
  
  
  
I woke up this morning with a strange compulsion to let out all of my secrets. I mean, no one is ever going to hear them or read this, so I might as well type it, right? Makes sense to me, but then that's not saying much.  
  
Fred and Angelina's wedding: I wasn't really invited, per se, but George didn't have a date and didn't want to go alone. So he asked me and I went with him. George had sent me to go make sure that Alicia had Fred's ring. I'd been so scared of her, from her malicious teasing back in school, that I'd asked very quietly. She (drunk as a woozy house-elf) had told me that everything was just perfect and then I left.  
  
I hadn't gotten more than two steps outside the door before the laughter started. I sank against the wall and to the floor, my heart hurting. I never knew what I did wrong to make them hate me so. I heard their voices through the wall and will never forget their words.  
  
Alicia said, "How pathetic. Girls, have you ever heard of a witch who's afraid of her own shadow?"  
  
I had never been afraid of my own shadow. Daddy had been proud of me when I gave up my night light in my room. He said I gave it up sooner than Michael did. Darkness, especially when created by my own blocking of the light, had never frightened me.  
  
Angelina said, "She is rather pitiful, isn't she? I'm surprised that George invited her as his date."  
  
It's not as though I asked to be invited to the damn wedding, Angelina. I would have stayed home; I WANTED to stay home, but George wanted me to get out of the house. It was mere weeks earlier, three weeks and two days, that my father had passed away. I wanted to stay home and grieve on my own, rather than watch other people become so happy. It was selfish of me to feel that way, but I had such a dark hole in my heart my father had once filled and could never be filled again that I didn't think happiness was possible without him.  
  
Alicia replied with: "Couldn't do any better, most likely. After all, she is always hanging around him, mooning over him. Even when Katie was alive, she had no respect for their relationship... she had better be glad it was Katie and not me, for I would have put her in her place."  
  
I had never meant to hurt George or Katie or anything. I just wanted my best friend to stay in my life. I tried to counsel him after he and Katie got into rows and have him see the other side. Although it seemed so misguided from Katie and Alicia's points of view, all I'd really wanted to do was help. But, selfish though it was, I will never deny the fact that I was afraid of losing him to her.  
  
But now, at the end, haven't I lost him? Will he go on without me? What a silly question. Of course he will. But will he still feel as whole? Or will he have that missing hole in his heart?  
  
But eavesdropping wasn't my secret. The secret was that I lied to George. I told him I had fallen down the stairs and felt out of sorts. He had Harry take me home. I'd never lied to George before, not about something big like this. I can't think of a time he refused to be there for me when I needed someone. His twin was getting married and I was most certainly not going to make him choose between consoling my pathetic feelings and watching his brother tie the knot.  
  
I never thought I was worthy of terribly much. I remember reading one of my father's old, dusty plays, in which a character said, "I counted myself so plain, so poorly-made, that no honest love could ever come to me!" Perhaps that best summed things up. My parents spoiled me with love, but it didn't make me a brat. For some reason – perhaps it was seeing the little bits of Michael's jealousy that I had Dad wrapped around my little finger – I always felt I had to work to keep their love. And I always did have that love. The thing is, so did Michael.  
  
How did we turn out so different?  
  
  
  
He killed Mum. I didn't remember him telling me until now, but it's clear as crystal inside my head now. I had to have been blocking it out. He told me every detail, about how he had come home with the pretense that he was returning from Auror training. Mum was home alone, and Michael said it was easy. When Daddy found Mum, it was already too late. I want to kill Michael. I will kill him the first chance I get, or die trying. I didn't think I would have it in me until I started screaming at the empty room last night. I screamed horrible things at Michael until my throat hurt and then I collapsed and cried myself to sleep on the cold floor. I will kill Michael, and then I will die.  
  
  
  
Fell in the bathroom and hit my head really hard this morning. Woke up in my own blood. Was worried I had something really bad happen to me. I tried to sleep, just a short kip, but woke up, calling for Neville.  
  
"Neville, make me better," I'd cried. He hadn't come.  
  
Do you hear me, Michael? This place will not break me. It has no right. I don't care that you're my brother. If you're under the Imperius Curse and what you're doing is not your choice, than you're a weak man. Just a weak, sorry excuse that had no right to be born to Mum and Dad. What was it that Mum always said? "It's easy to find something worth living for, but the tough thing to find is something worth dying for." Or maybe it's the other way around.  
  
Don't know. Can't think right anymore. Head hurts too much.  
  
You're not my brother, Michael. We may have had the same parents, but the Weasleys made themselves my brothers after you left me and Daddy. Daddy always thought it was because you couldn't stand to live without Mum. When you killed Mum, you killed Dad, too. You hardly saw him after her death. He was a mere shadow of the man he once was. Sure, he held himself together for me, but he'd all but lost the will to live. And without anything to hold onto, it killed me.  
  
Don't you remember the times we went into the forest behind our house and built the fort? I remember Daddy helping us and Mummy being so proud. Remember when I fell out of the tree and broke my leg? You carried me all the way home and Mum healed me with her wand. It's the first time I can remember our mum using magic in the house.  
  
But I guess you've forgotten all of that, Michael. You don't love me and you never did. I'm your SISTER, God damn it. And you tore me from my life and put me in this hellhole.  
  
I didn't mean what I said earlier. About being under Imperius. If you're under Imperius, it makes you more of a victim than me. I like to think you are, as sadistic as it sounds, because it means you still love me. But it also means you have to do these horrible things to me against your will. You have to watch helplessly. Michael, I wish I could help you.  
  
The thing is that everyone on the outside thinks I'm dead. They're not looking for me. They think they have my body right there. They've all given up on me. Someone has to be out there, believing.  
  
I know George. If there hadn't been a body, he wouldn't rest until he'd found me.  
  
He thinks I'm dead like the rest of them, though.  
  
George is hurting and it's my fault. I know I couldn't possibly know what was going to happen, but I've got to blame someone. Not Michael. Blaming Death Eaters and the Cabalistica would be too impersonal. Not specific enough.  
  
So I'm funneling all of my blame into myself. Not healthy, I know. I'll schedule an appointment with Dr. Macmillian as soon as I get out of this place.  
  
I miss George like a constant stomachache. I miss his touch. It always made me calmer. Things weren't as scary when he was holding my hand. He was the perfect mix of caring for me and needing to be cared for. I miss his voice.  
  
This isn't fucking FAIR! Now I'm rambling so I think I'll go take a nap. My head hurts a lot, but at least it stopped bleeding. "A plus in anyone's book," like George says. I miss him.  
  
But maybe this is it. Maybe I won't wake up tomorrow. That can't be so bad. It won't hurt anyone more. It'll stop whatever the Cabalistica wants to use me for. My death will help people.  
  
I'm such a martyr.  
  
I'm going to go to bed and dream of George's touch and Shelly's meddling and Fred's shouts and Alicia's taunts and everything else that makes me feel like Anya Parker. I'm afraid I'm going to lose myself, just as everyone else has lost me.  
  
But maybe I will wake up and George's face will be there, telling me I'm so silly for sleeping so late and then he'd take me into his arms and hold me because I'd probably be crying because I was so grateful it was only a dream and he'd kiss my tears away and ask what's wrong, but I wouldn't be able to speak because I would be crying too hard and then I'd kiss him until we were both breathless and then we'd do other things, but I won't type them because I'm a good girl.  
  
Maybe.  
  
  
  
Took my nap. Vision's getting pretty blurry. I'm not sure I'm hitting the right keys. I'm seeing two of everything. My head still hurts, but so does the rest of me. My heart, too. Not a physical thing, though. Or maybe it is. Hard to tell.  
  
Had a good dream. No pain in dreams. George was in it. Very soft. Love his touch. So stupid of us to wait so long. Can almost hear his voice now. Room's getting kind of dim. Think the door's opening. They're going to take my typewriter away. Need to stay here. Won't let them. Moving my cot. Saying something about me. About blood and my head. Tell them to leave me alone, George. Want George here to take care of me. Won't let them etl, they gonna fwr nw no qibr kwr rgwn he is comin vsmy bye  
  
The end. 


End file.
